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Poem

With each stroke of the hand across the clock face
Bids a wave to time as it passes by fast
That's why days run into nights
But the darkness hasn't faded even a little 

I sat here waiting for it to strike five
Till the clock struck six,
And I'm yet to make up my mind to get up
Cause I'm still in awe at how time past 

Just now it was morning 
And I was in my bed gazing at the ceiling
Now it's already evening
I'll be back home to stare at the same ceiling 

I'm sure if I pick up piece by piece
Of the time I'll barely piece my day
Cause I lost track of time after having tea
For I stared too long at my reflection and it got me thinking 

For it's already two decades gone now
It's just the other day I was rolling in mud
While now I'm molding that future I was playing with
I just hope that this time I'll have the time to do it all 

With each brush of the hand over the clock face
I wipe my face off to look at how times passing
Cause if I sleep in this next phase
I'll blame time while all it did was to come and go as it should 

The PO£T

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