Time. I command you to stop. This instant. This very moment. For I do not want to age.
Please stop tormenting me with the steady 'tick tock' of your hand, as if it was the dainty hand of a proud, giggling woman, waving off the advances of a man desparately in love, pursuing her with a vengence.
Stop. Stop marching on, so oblivious to the graying of my hair. Give me back my youth, merciless one.
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