I’m here and now but seldom in the moment.
On my stage, time is just an unknown in the equation,
A passerby I salute to acknowledge his presence,
A shadow that lingers in the confines of my space.
My space, my void.
For time has swooped in like a cancerous plague
Washing away the virtue and candor of my every minute.
My days and nights are barren wastes,
Black holes between now and then, but when?
When is but a mark, a point to be reached.
How to get there is still a mystery to me.
My mind wanders down roads I've yet to pave
I may reach the end tomorrow, it may take years.
Years, an anomaly of time itself measured in days
Three hundred and sixty five to be exact, if we're lucky.
Regardless, I've let myself be carried by hands of time
Only the clock seems to be counting backwards.
Precious seconds being eaten away as if to teach me a lesson,
A daunting task even for the pretender in me.
No matter what I do, I fail to grasp the continuum.
The “tick” “tack” melody of my living room clock is deceiving,
Like a lullaby it puts me to sleep and I fade away.
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