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Time.

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Seconds flicker by,
morphing quickly into minutes that crawl by into hours
that seep into days
and eventually I'm drowning in months and engulfed in years.
I'm inhaling insults and locking them away in a tight little box,
clutching compliments as if they were a floatation device,
my last chance to save myself,
to stop time and slow it down.
My last chance to enjoy this moment that we call life,
this brief gift often taken for granted.
I'm staring at this wise master, so fond of mockery
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick
It's skin cracking and peeling,
it's hands shaking with old age and weak with arthritis.
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick
Still, it looks me in the eye, never pausing to rest,
never dying in spirit or in heart.
Still, it's voice rings louder
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK
Demanding to be heard, finding its way into my head
and hammering my heart with it's sharp consistent
ticks and ever present tocks.
Seconds flicker by,
morphing into minutes that crawl by into hours
that seep into days
and eventually, I've drowned in months
and been engulfed in my ears.
But still, my master ticks on
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick
as stubborn as ever,
refusing to rest.
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tick tock tick tock tick tock tick



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