The Hands On The Clock Poem by Eddie Zarifovic
The Hands On The Clock
The hands on the clock, seldom endorsed by time, fall short of their purpose, and fail to rewind. So I find myself constantly going in circles, alone. I'm not accompanied by the hands on the clock, but instead, soar through time, aimlessly, searching for an end. Things are not as they seem and circumstances need careful review. Watch what you're watching. Think before you do.
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5/7/2024 2:27:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
