does not fly.
limps because its’ burden is too hard to bear.
must carry the heavy confusion, jagged memories and harsh truths on its' back.
must passively watch as life brighten and fades.
must pray for miracles right after calamities.
reduced to numbers,
liked and hated,
found then lost again
Time is often
labelled what it is not
the victim of cliches,
mistaken invincible aerial bird,
it often travels on foot, tired,
its' own pace
wandering figure we
fail to recognize
at first glance
I’ve been saved
yet wrecked by it.
I notice it usually angers when tired and bothered,
When it feels rushed.
Some days, I wake up in a daze.
With blurred eyes.
attempt to catch its’ reflection in the mirror,
to track its' subtle movements around me,
to treasure it's company,
because I know it cannot stay with me indefinitely