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A poem about time passing, time wasted, time lost, & the insignificance of your existence |
Tick Tock Our lifetimes pass in the ticking Of a clock. Tick tock, tick tock; Time spent, time wasted, Time lost. Tick tock. Each second passed, now in the past, Never to be recaptured, Reclaimed. Life passes us by. Tick tock, tick tock; years spent, Years wasted, years lost. Tick tock. Yet there was a time, when time was not. …Dreams are timeless, as in the time before Time consumed the world in its neurotic Appetite. A contradiction in itself: a time before time Cannot be, cannot have been. The land before time, the world before man. ‘Time flies when you’re having fun’. Dream of finding that perfect happiness For which even time will halt its constant droning, And lie still. And still we wait. Waiting in dreams Where time cannot touch us Until we wake. If we wake… Our life’s time passes in the ticking of a clock; Five minute conception, twelve hour labour, Labour nine hours a day, just to pay The bills each week. And how many seconds pass In those final tears, the day you pass Away? Born, lived and died, tick tock, tick tock. Years passed; your life past, lost, forgotten; Did you leave your mark? Tick tock, tick tock. Or are you forgotten, as a passing second Of a busy day? Tick tock. Lifetime passed; it’s in the past, the clock ticks on Without you. The short time of your being Means nothing; nothing important – time Didn’t stop. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. |