Please Father Time, Just One More Shot

Timeis determined

It doesn't do detours,

or short cuts,

or the scenic route.

It stops for no one:

hitchhikers (flips them off)

hookers (runs them down)

homeless (turns them away)

Sympathy is lost.

Subtlety is lucid.

It won't do you any favours.

Going about its business:

warning women with wrinkles,

bullying men with beer bellies.

Time taunts you,

teases

and torments you.

Sometimes seemingly quitting altogether.

When you just want it to fly,

that's when it lags;

when it whispers

it whispers

whispers

through your hair,

gray and thinning.

The hands of the clock skip seconds

when you want it to stop

stop

stop

stop.

There is no bribing time.

Not enough money,

sex,

or second chances.

It will continue on its way,

passing you by

and you'll take it for granted.

Never giving it the time of day,

until it falls off the edge of your life

and you say,

where has the time gone?