4 September, 2021
Tick-Tock
When the hall clock halts
At ten twenty-two,
Your mind attempts some sense of it
Even when you know
It’s the battery that goes.
There’s a place and space
Right in between
Of all that’s real
And all that seems improved.
You reach, but what’s the use?
The orb spins on;
What’s here is gone,
Today, tomorrow, and beyond.
What’s in your hand is always wrong
When purpose is confused.
You play but always lose.
Dawn may convey the light of day,
Lifting shade. And healing rays
Mend lashes in the heart that breaks
Each time dream slips away…
What hope’s in store today?
Can the smaller joys suffice
When life’s muscle has been riced?
What is broken deep inside you
That you can’t be satisfied
With the packet in your pocket?
Where does resolution lie?
Manifesting takes some time…
Tick tock, tick tock;
It marches on.
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