Tempo
Tell Father Time I haven't need of him;
my heart is good enough a metronome:
it sings my life and sings my requiem,
and when abroad, it keeps me close to home.
It keeps a record of my brisk hellos
and documents my burdensome good-byes.
It keeps me ever wary of my woes,
but thankfully as well my loving ties.
Tell Time his Death need not come visit me;
my life has vowed to reap me in his stead
with memories of pain but more of glee,
enshrined in gratitude and shades of red.
My heart keeps time but at a different beat,
a far more pleasant pace, less grave than sweet.
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