The thing is, I can always hear it
And I know you can too.
The ticking of the clock
And there’s so much to do
We’re rabbits, scrambling from place to place
Fast as we can
Clock in our hand,
“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!”
And you think
If only I could stop time
For just à moment
And breathe.

But no matter what you do, you can’t stop the clock.
Tick tock
Finish the dishes and take the dog for à walk
Tick tock
Wait, do à load of laundry too.
Tick tock
Quickly, there’s lots left to do!
Tick tock
Study for that test
Tick tock
Start those problem sets
tick tock
Get ahead
tick tock
Go to bed
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
TICK TOCK--

Dreams.
A short time when time isn’t short
A whisper of oddity and a strange sequence of events
A time when nothing makes sense
When absurdity takes the wheel
And logic takes a backseat to imagination

The view shifts to Cheshire cats with wide grins
And a mad hatter and a tiny door

But then you hear it, seeping forward into the edges of your consciousness.
Tick tock.
The first tendrils of tomorrow
Dragging you back to your assembly line of a life
Back to the school work and studying and bills and job
Back to responsibilities and problems and strife
Back to the monotonous ticking of the clock
Tick tock
Tick tock..
And as your eyes open
To the sunlight forcing its way through the blinds
You feel the dreams fading
Disappearing into the depths of your mind.

Back to the nonsensical jumble of events
Back to illogical reasoning and  content
Back to a place where the world is timeless.
And it happens every time
You feel the retreat and feebly try to remember but to no avail
And there’s no time for such detail today anyway
You can’t stop the clock
To search for the contrail of something that doesn’t matter.
Because it doesn’t, right?
What matters is getting to school  on time,
Getting those bills paid  today
Applying to colleges before the deadline
Finishing the to-do list in every way.
Right?

Well, try this.
Next time you dream
Of Cheshire cats with wide grins
And a mad hatter and a tiny door
Next time you feel the memories slipping away as you wake
Follow them.
Chase them and find out what paths they take.

And sure, the alarm is still ringing
You can still hear it, if you listen.
So, try this.
Stop listening.

Because no, maybe you can’t stop the clock.
But you can mute it.

And maybe, just maybe,
A stolen moment
Of silencing the timer
Of turning it down
Of numbing the sound
Is enough.