Friday, 30 October 2015

Free time

The grandfather clock
Stands stiff and handsome
To tick on the brain
Away at the hours
Perform in routine

With all the time in the world
Waving hands
Short of concern
Days of insignificance
The only friends compete for attention

The years are many
With nothing to fill
But the risk of hanging
Reputations on the line
They call judgement

The same old pendulum
Swings heavy
Possessive of freedom
With bare hands
Nothing to care for

Shy of a future
Swallow the air
At the thought
Of having to live in sane