She wonders how lonely He must be This keeper of time This relic of the past That if he always stood watching Or if once in the early years He was free to wander the forming earth Get lost in creating new tides Wonder at the miracles being created She wonders what it is life Knowing that life goes on for so long Yet alway being stuck, rooted in one place.

Isn’t it funny that when something and happens even though it feels like the end everything continues

the sun still shines the birds still chirp

you’re still breathing in and out

your hearts not really broken it just feels like it is

It’s awful and maddening

you just want to scream and sob

The world should be ending You can see it splitting Right down the middle

Time is slowing down

And tears are streaming down your face

But the sun is shining And the birds are chirping

Everything Is beautiful

Why can’t it burn down?

The boss—Alex—and the maid—Alecia—both Bestfriends tried to hide their feelings, but tension always bubbled up. “Sir,” Alecia said, walking into his office. “You can have a break.” Alex said. “Thank you,” She bowed. “Why don’t you come sit?” Alex’s friend said flirtatiously. “Yes, please, sit.” Alex chimed in. “Okay,” She adjusted herself onto the seat. “This is my maid, Alecia.” “You sure this is your maid? She looks like a model.” His friend said. Alex squinted towards his friend. His another friend scoffed, “More like a horse than a model.” Alex’s Jaw flexed and a scowl appeared on his face. “You must be going,” Alex said, pushing his friends out the door. “But we just got here.” “You’ve done enough, I don’t want to hear any more.” Alex scoffed. “Tell your maid that she can call me.” “She will not. She has a boss.” “Not for that,” His friend looked back at Alecia and smirked. “Be on your way.” Alex commanded. “Okay,” His friends both did as he said.

“What’s wrong with what I said?” “Why would you insult her?” “Because, she works for you. Why does it matter to you?” “Because your being a jerk!” Alex groaned. “Leave.” He hissed. “You didn’t answer my question.” A grin appeared on his friends face. Alex gave his friend a nudge towards the walkway, his other friend just watching.

                                    ••••

Alecia couldn’t help but cry. Normally she was thick-skinned, but today, tears pursed through her. Alex walked through the door. “Are you okay?” He pleaded. “Yes,” She said hoarsely. “They were just jerks, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” She waved it away. Tears still trickling from her face. Alex wrapped her in a hug. Alecia received the hug, and wrapped her arms tightly around him, sobs abruptly pouring out. “I’m sorry. I’m here. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Alex whispered. Alecia felt safe in his embrace, but what would workers say if they saw them? “What about your workers?” “I’m comforted a friend, it doesn’t matter.” That should’ve comforted her, but instead, _she cried more. _ _ _In time would he like her? Or would she always be the friend? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Time Once here Now gone

Time Once mine Now forever lost

Time A life long prison I’ll never escape from

Time I’m losing it But did I ever really have it?

(Not free-verse… the rhymes just felt right)

How many hours in a day For they’re not ours to keep One cannot own what isn’t truly there Yet still for the loss we weep

Why slippery things I failed to grasp thy tail But for my struggles I’ve nothing to show Only broken dreams and broken nails

I slipped on the tracks I got sucked under the speeding train Drip drop the time went

                    Dripping

      down


               the drain

The train rumbles on, steel wheels, Carving through the night, each clickety-clack a beat, In the symphony of motion. Outside, the world blurs, a smudge of ever-changing landscapes, A world of secrets hidden in the folds. The rhythm lulls me, a steady hand, Rocking me to sleep. Yet my mind, Races, chasing wisps of thoughts that flit and dodge. I close my eyes, and dreamscape, Unfolds, a kaleidoscope of memories, bright and bittersweet, tinged with the colors, Of nostalgia. The journey stretches on, A metaphor for life's relentless tide, carrying us forward, To unknown destinations. We hold on to the present, a fragile raft, Amidst the waves. trusting that the current will lead us, To where we're meant to be.

I am but a hollow stone, Frozen in time's unyielding march, A monument to what never was, Nor ever will be.

I am but an empty shell, An urn, forsaken and abandoned, Upon life's mantelpiece, Within me lie the ashes Of the girl I once embodied.

I stand, trapped and paralyzed, A ghost among the living, On this infinite carousel, As the world spins around me, Rotating in indifference,

Round and round and round,

A kaleidoscope of colors, Blurring into oblivion, What a cruel, relentless force,

Time departed in such haste, It spared me no farewell, And I'm left here on the mantelpiece, To gather dust.

What am I thinking about? I’m thinking about Lana Del Rey. I’ve been listening to her a lot lately.

I’m thinking about spring, And how it’s crept up on me.

I’m thinking about summer and it’s inevitabiliy. I’m thinking that life doesn’t feel real. That time is abstract, A concept, Unable to affect me.

I wonder what I will think at the end of the school year. Will I have another depressive episode like last summer? Will I be unable to handle the end of my youth? It doesn’t have to be the end of my youth. Does it?

I’ve been told you can let your childhood live on. It never has to die. But I’m expected to grow up, And handle things, And responsabilites, And live right.

It’s never going to be this easy again. I’m never going to be this free again. Sometimes I think it’s better to have the opportunities, Than to experience them. I think it’s because I’ve been dissapointed before. But sometimes, I can just enjoy it. I don’t know how I’ll enjoy my childhood when it’s no longer there.

I think I’d rather have the opportunities. A future to look forward to. A future I’m too scared to experience. I’m happy right now, And that’s so rare. I don’t want anything to happen to that happiness. I don’t know what waits for me on the other side.

(I tried to find a prompt that fits this poem i had to write for school, its good enough, praying my teacher likes it 😋)

He never thought he could forget The day time went blank, And was nowhere to be found.

He was waiting with his mother She said that her meeting was important So he must wait outside.

And she had said she would be back Not too long from now And he must wait for her and not leave his chair.

He sat and waited, Waited as the clock ticked the seconds away, Waited for her return.

He watched the red line move on the clock Accounting for each of those Seconds he waited

The sound of each second passing Slowly faded into the background As his thoughts faded into the background of his mind

Where the ticking continued The same way the grandfather clock That his grandmother used to have ticked

The same way the classroom clock Counted the minutes Until hometime

The same way a ticking time bomb would While counting down to the inevitable Ticking, ticking, ticking…

Until- Come on. We can go now. His mother smiled taking his hand.

And he walked out the room Leaving behind the clock As it ticked its goodbye.

Do you ever stop for a moment And recall events that feel recent But then realize a lot of time has passed?

And then you look at that time period, that gap, And realize how empty it is? How meaningless? How little you did or accomplished, And how apathetic you feel about it?

I don’t know when it’s normal to start feeling this kind of stuff. I guess when you’re raised faithless you can’t use religion as a crutch. Because it ends. And I know that life has meaning And that somehow it’s devoid of it too And I like being alive I swear to god I do.

Oh the irony. Time is as fleeting as the grains of sand I hold in my palms. And meaning? It’s as tangible as the clouds hiding sun and bringing raindrops. You can see it, and it’s almost like it’s there, But the moment you reach for it, You realize it’s just air.

It’s a crisis of time, It’s a crisis of mortality, It’s just a fucking crisis of life if you ask me! The world is a backwards place. And all this rambling? It’s called being afraid.

I know that someday it’ll all be over. And the deeper I dig, The farther I’m in the hole. Because I want everything, And sometimes we’re punished for our love. Because with all this struggle, Is living enough?