Ticking…

I’d like to speak briefly with Time himself and ask why he was always lost.
He was always off or there wasn’t enough of him to go round.
He gave me just enough of himself to build up hopes and let down a wall only to run away like a thief in the night, not making a sound.
I wouldn’t say I wasted him, although that was the initial feeling.
Never took him for granted because I didn’t know what he was stealing.
Years down the road I guess time ran out of breath and quit on us.
He left without warning, just hopped on a bus.
Time stole something from me and I’d like to have it back.
Time is still on that bus holding it, watching it crack.
He’s riding off into the darkness and now I have to follow.
But time never told me about our little trip into the shadows…
I can only hope I catch up with Time,
To take back what’s mine,
To stop pretending I’m fine,
To undo his lie.
Time has been quite slippery,
quite sneaky,
quite slick.
It’s a wonder someone hasn’t hit Time with a brick.
Stopped him so we could hold on to the moments that matter most.
Time has something of mine and I’d like it back….

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