This poem was inspired by the insistent tick tack of the clock, more beer than usual and the desire to let off steam on a Friday morning at four o'clock.
The passage of time has become so fickle
sometimes flying and giving birth to new grey hairs without knowing
and others slow as a walking lame
making it last an eternity, that special moment.
In a cruel way the clock plays with us
slowing down the wait
desperate for the one who wishes the moment of that arrival
but rushing the hours when you find your lover.
Unfair way to play with us
you make a day last a thousand years
trying to drive me crazy
but when I talk to her, you're so uncooperative.
Indispensable at times
that at last to be on our side
the clock stops and that moment returns endlessly
I used it to memorize your body
and then in a nutshell, coming back is a figure of speech.
Ohhh damn clock, playing with my emotions
you make the hours go by
and you make the sad songs eternal
I think it's time we all drew our own conclusions.
Now, you who read to me, tell me...
Is time your ally? Or are you just another one of its pawns?
participate in his actions or just a servant of that ticking clock and his decisions.
