Tied Up in the Hands of Time

Tied Up in the Hands of Time

Where does the time go?
Through seasons, bumps on the slide of life,
We age and die a little bit with passing seconds.
For what reason do I care, or you for that matter?
Do you have somewhere to be? Do I have unfinished plans-
These ideas seem devout to a belief.
But it’s all just a wheel on a car, until it pops and deflates,

Where does the air go?
Escaping like the rooms on fire.
Where does anything go?
The world spins, we’re going nowhere.
Wait- we’re going backwards!
Where does the time go, when you are spinning backwards?
Do we age the opposite way,
And are born into our old wed’s arms,
Or that train that couldn’t save you from that fall?

Where does the time go?

I stare at a watch, an expensive one, to track time,
But it’s the same as every watch,
Because it’ll eventually run out of battery,
Just like everything in time.
Through seasons, bumps on the slide of life,
Our time is precious, but I’m exhausted of hearing
That time whips us into place, wakes us up,
Rests our head.
I want to be free, to wake up when I want to,
And force my eyes to sleep when I feel it.
Do you like to be tied up in the hands of time?

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