Angry Clocks

Angry Clocks

I have angered my clock

as I've stolen its job

I count the seconds now

and keep track of time

Each grain of sand

that falls through the hourglass

is large like beach balls

before my eyes

My fingers flying on the abacus

adding them up

How long has it been?

I can tell you

I've counted the days

Angry clocks cross their arms in frustration

I no longer give them any attention

Weak. I know. It was a concept that I was thinking about writing yesterday but I kept putting it off and all the good lines I had in my head are now lost in time. They will always be better than what I came up with today because they are forgotten and nothing compared to them can ever be proven to be better. I ramble now. I'm tired. Peace out.