The Clock


break the clock inside you’ll find

all your years of wasted time.

through your fingers do they slide

with patient reason time shall bide.



shatter the clock with calm sublime

reclaim your moments of wasted time

through your fingers still they scatter

coax thy sanity – naught will matter



slippery feckless ever churning

flippantly reckless always burning

Father Time despises waste

spitting seconds in your face



clicking ticking on it goes

waiting patiently for deaths’ sweet throes

one shall never comprehend

time shall win out in the end



31. May 2014 Kathy Jones-Boulier


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