Timeworn

Written by Carol Sullivan Wednesday, 23 September 2009 00:00

You only stare at me from your mantle-throne
The ever patient and unrewarded sovereign
of my every moment, wasted or not
Are you aware of what your job is?
How do you pass the time?

You rarely have good news
In truth not much at all
Go to work, go to bed, you missed your show again.

Your unfeeling hands sweep around again
You do not realize our reliance on your honesty.

What if you lied?
What if you got tired?
Or needed a vacation?
On days that are full of pain
How I wish that you would.

You have a face yet never smile.
A real face has eyes that tell truths
Ones that weep when sadness comes
Have you seen what I have done?

The blood thickens as we wait
Your relentless march mocking me
Your tick, a boom in my head.
What are you counting on?

Or is your rhythm your pulse, your words
Whispering that I am tarnished for it,
For wasting the daily gift that you bring.

I stare into your face
Waiting for truth, perhaps
For guidance,
For punishment.

Yes, punishment it will be
For I hear the sirens now.

Ticking clock, my cold sentry
We will now have much time to get acquainted.

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About The Author
When she's not kicking out piles of reviews for us as our Editor of Theater & Entertainment, Carol Sullivan is a Southern California domestic goddess and lover of anything and everything scary!

I am rabid Dystopiate who also has the good fortune to work for these fine people!

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 23 September 2009 12:28 )