Clock

This poem was recently published in the "Great Poets of the Western World"

The days drag on
A snake slithering to the darkness
With ever second that passes
I slowly age

The skin begins to stretch
The bones begin to grow
As slowly of so slowly I age

But the skin soon wrinkles
And the bones become brittle
With haste I try to stop the clock
The one I wished to speed
I now wish to stop

I relies the mistake I made
And I know how I could make it go away
If I could just reach the clock