And so the clock is ticking
time flies madly by
dancing in darkness
performing in light.
And what a mad, sad,
rambunctious flight.

Take pity on me
beggars and thiefs
for I have not won
or lost.
I merely sustained
And therefore I am
of my own making
apathetic.

Not so much apologetics
as frenzied frenetic
time traveller
with eyes in the neck.
What a distasteful existance
it has been.
What of today?
What of today?