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?