A Will of Its Own

Like counting the rings on a sycamore stump, Nobody answers the phone. And then when they do, they just put me on hold. Time has a will of its own. It flows midnight to noon from December to June And then back again, day after day; An illicit affair between tortoise and hare In a hickory-dickory way. I borrowed a scene from a screenplay I wrote. Now I'm repaying the loan. My script for the sequel rejected again. Time has a will of its own. It rolls Summer through Fall till Times Square drops the ball As the signal to start a new year; An impetuous race where we all run in place, ‘cause baby, nobody gets there from here. There's nothing to do on a Saturday night; Binge watching Netflix alone. I ordered a pizza two hours ago. Time has a will of its own. The shorter your patience, the longer the wait. Time has a will of its own.