Time Bomb

Has the new year brought me love, Or just more solitude and misery? Can it give a glimpse of happiness, That's not inclined to a forgery? I suppose that time will be the monitor, As days, weeks, and months become the year. Yet I am left to wonder and inquire, Towards the pace, fast or slow, that I fear. Often, there's a fuse to trigger an explosion, Though it is difficult to know if it's been lit. So while the seconds tick away in anxiety, The minutes blow right on by and won't quit. Such is the nature that time possesses, Whether expanding or contracting in space. Not to mention all the bending and gravity, It's no wonder it can blow up in one's face.