5The circular being starts its Arrival
Sixty seconds in a minute
Twenty four hours in a day
Sixty minutes in an hour
Who came up with that?
Who chose such numbers?
Nothing seems real nothing seems fair
When I start to complain, nothing seems sane
Time is precious, time is unbound
Whispering voices in my head
Telling me
Humming to me the seconds
On the dreaded clock above my head
With every second with every minute with every hour that passes
The clock approaches its final tock
Underneath its obvious and repetitive cycle, it counts down
Departure
Tick-tock