I grasp the hands of the clock and bend them into shape
To resemble, eventually, quality time better spent,
The outlines of time don’t trouble me, but is it meant
To be a kind of security, surrounded by a high fence?
Do I lend the time to anyone – is it a gift I can give?
Many hours I have spent in a kind of dull suspension
Where time does not require any kind of attention.
I look at my watch but gradually there’s no ticking
I have not noticed it because the ticks are echoing,
The hands pretend to be moving, so imagine the shock
To see they are stationary, so where do I go from here?

I grasp each minute and quickly question every second
I can’t be wasting my time this way it makes no sense,
For the time does not come around for another turn
It arrives, it displays and it is then gone, there’s no return.
Realising the nature of time and its indifference to clocks
Is like discovering the reality of gravity using hard rocks,
There are times that I wished I had never experienced;
But there is no way of unwrapping the consequences
Of times that do harm, that represent uncalled for action,
There are times when I hear words I do not want to know
I can’t undo time – I’m resigned to go with the easy flow.