Tell me:
What if my life wasn't the same?
I made a different decision once
And everything I know now is flipped one hundred-eighty degrees.
I chose to not love him?
I decided to talk to him?
I all together ignored him?
Tell me:
What if my life wasn't the same?
I wouldn't be the same person,
And who I am now, never would have even existed.              
I chose to drink away my pains?
I decided to cause myself pain?
I all together enjoyed pain?
Who would I be then?
Who would I be now?
What if I took the road more traveled by?
Or made myself a new trail?
What if I didn't end up admiring the heavens?
Or instead hopelessly tried to catch fireflies or fish?  
At the right time,                  
Somehow, the right people come into my life;
They may not be the people I want to meet,
Or even the people I think I need to know.        
Tell me:
What if no one I knew now chanced upon me?
Would I even exist as I am?

Once, long ago,
An old man took me into his shop
And showed me his snowglobe collection.
Every one, spotless,
No trace of dust lining the rims.
I paused to gaze,
No,
Marvel,
At each scene:
Two children ice skating,
A milkman driving his truck,
Ladies reading magazines while having their hair styled.
Every one, spotless,
Until I lightly shook one,
Just enough so the snow sprinkled
The ice skating children,
The driving milkman,
The reading ladies.
But each scene was still, frozen in time,
Still, perfect.
I slumped to the floor,
Heartbroken and tears trailing down my cheeks.
I wanted their life so bad,
But all I could do was marvel,
No,
Gaze,
And lightly sprinkle the tiny figurines.

I went to the circus when I was thirteen;
Everything was turkus,
All in a rurkus,
And my body brought me to an automated teller machine.

Its face was a gypsy, but there wasn't something quite right;
Then I became real tipsy,
I saw smoking hippies,
And when I woke, I couldn't find my parents by a long sight.

The circus, the circus had closed down.
Besides the ghosts, I was the only one in town,
And the only thing left was a rusted old crown.

5194 the history book told me.
Nothing could solve this, there was no key,
And so I let me dreams take me to the sea.

When I awoke, I wakened with a jolt;
I was under a cheastnut oak,
Covered in a velvet cloak,
And everything was normal, just as it was supposed to be.

All is gone
I can only see darkness
And my mind's projection of the silouettes of my hands
The grandfather clock is broken
No repairman came knocking on my door
Nor did my house tell me it needed fixing
Soon the dust gathered on the golden bells
And the mahogany fell silent
The silver cogs were equally as inaudiable
The glowing numbers didn't shine anymore
Man, the only creature plagued by time
So accustomed to our sickness
I can still hear, in the back of my mind,
"Tik tok...
Tik tok...
- - -."

Now is the time I am old
Old as I've ever been, young as I'll ever be
My activities are done
And my body has left me with nothing to do
Too much time
Oh, how I would trade all my minutes now
In exchange for minutes then
To climb with Jack once more up the beanstalk
Or braid Rapunzel's hair again
Now is the time that I am old
And my time has passed
Only to be collected in the wrinkles of my skin
Or gleam of my colorless hair
Somehow inside of my alarm clock I still know the existence of
The screaming mahogany treads
The protesting silver cogs
Now accompanied by the crying red numbers on the screen
But louder than all of their rustling is
"Tik tok...
Tik tok...
Ding."

In bed by eight and then storytime
Lots of time
Just enough time and a short enough memory to know there was a tomorrow
Just enough time and a short enough memory to not understand aging
Until I had plucked all the hairs off my chinny chin chin
And discovered if the big bad wolf was real that he lived inside of me
He ate my years
My dad's pocketwatch was in sync with the grandfather clock
Its tiny hands resonating louder than
The protesting silver cogs
The screaming mahogany treads
"Tik tok...
Tik tok...
Ding. Ding."

Plagued by time* is the most apt description of man
Not enough time
A drowning consciousness in the sea of activities
Not enough time
The mind with a growing number of disabilities
Not enough time
To do anything in a twenty-four hour day
The grandfather clock cannot stop
Even though its mahogany treads are screaming
"NO MORE"
Only to be drowned out by the golden bells
Whispering
"Tik tok...
Tik tok...
Ding. Ding. Ding."