(Time enjoys playing tricks on me.

Coming to you,

it drags its hands.

Leaving, it swiftly

carries me away.

And when it gives me a spare moment

in which to think,

it taunts me with your memory.

It keeps me imprisoned

with shadows of your smile,

echoes of your laughter,

and the slow falling sands of an hourglass

as my prison inmates.

And when it allows you a visit

bittersweet in its fleetingness

all to abruptly it tears us apart

back to the other duties of our lives

where my heart beats as wood

inside a mechanical robot.

When your presence becomes absence

Time becomes a taskmaster,

burdening me with accomplishing

what I no longer feel.

All I feel is you.

The corrupt clock cruelly relishes this power it holds

to speed up,

or slow down,

at all the wrong times.

And all I can do is suffer

Through its maniacal ticking laughter

until the time Time shows mercy

and allows me to stay

in the only time and place I care to be,

the time and place where you’re with me.)