Live from the lull, I’m coming to you with a sluggish gait and arms full of wait, no, weight, no, wait. Wait is a weight. See what I come up with staring at the face I have stared at my (w)hole life, the clock face.
Anyway, life is waiting, with some brief interruptions of living. Prove me wrong, I’m waiting. In the meantime, time is mean, no breaks for first time offenders or last time pretenders. It might drag or it might race, but time sets the pace and if you were born you’re already late. So here is a face built to take the stares, It serves as a reminder to punch the clock that will one day punch you.