(Time enjoys playing tricks on me.
Coming to you,
it drags its hands.
Leaving, it swiftly
carries me away.
And when it gives me a spare moment
in which to think,
it taunts me with your memory.
It keeps me imprisoned
with shadows of your smile,
echoes of your laughter,
and the slow falling sands of an hourglass
as my prison inmates.
And when it allows you a visit
bittersweet in its fleetingness
all to abruptly it tears us apart
back to the other duties of our lives
where my heart beats as wood
inside a mechanical robot.
When your presence becomes absence
Time becomes a taskmaster,
burdening me with accomplishing
what I no longer feel.
All I feel is you.
The corrupt clock cruelly relishes this power it holds
to speed up,
or slow down,
at all the wrong times.
And all I can do is suffer
Through its maniacal ticking laughter
until the time Time shows mercy
and allows me to stay
in the only time and place I care to be,
the time and place where you’re with me.)