Time is slow, but seems to move fast like a rush hour,
In those minutes lives are brought in, others are taken,
Time looks upon us, like a man on top of the tallest tower,
Time stops for no one, and when we think it does, we are mistaken,
Time slowly ticks away, and yet never dies,
Clocks hanging in every room, because time is life,
A life that's always perfect, no tears, no sorrow, no cries,
Time is precious but vital, like a neatly sharpened knife,
The repetitive sound lingers in my ears 'tik tok',
Engraving itself into my brain, like one hundred stabbing knives,
I sit here, starring at the hands of a clock,
Slowly ticking away, the days of our lives,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem