a ticking clock

poem fifteen

why do we wish upon momentary shooting stars

when our bones will crumble into fine, grey, dust

the soil will suffocate our lungs

and skin grow pale and colourless

under dim light from an amber moon

why do we wait for trains that will not come

and people that left long ago

when the grim final tick of the clock of your time

grows closer each moment wasted

why do we stare at screens and sit at desks

minds aimlessly wandering to nowhere

when beaches of warm sand and ice cream sit awaiting

just peeking over the other side

why do we say no to opportunities and live in perpetual fear

when waves of fate threaten to crush everything we hold dear

even the flowers all inevitably crumble into dust

and forests are set ablaze

yet we twist and tiptoe around the one truth in life

trying to delay an inevitable ending

but we were never made to last forever

---