Clock

I love to set myself silly little tasks
like doing laundry or planning my future.
The clock goes tick, tick, tick, but my
to-do list never gets a tick of its own.

I could buy a thousand clocks and still
I wouldn’t know how to spend my time.
Happy hour lasts only minutes and
a single email steals my afternoon.

Always too early or too late, never on time.
Numb to the now, fearing for the future,
paralysed by the past. Surviving, not thriving.
Life is just full of pressing snooze buttons.

But I don’t really mourn for lost time.
It’s the minutes stolen from us I resent.
If we had eternity, I’d give every second
to be with the people I love. Like you.