I seem to only live in seconds.
Second child bearing.
Dining in
second plates,
Wearing second hand garb.
Wait a second bus!
My clocks second hand too slow.
Third child born,
living second child syndrome.
The first of my kind,
still only second best.
And for the record, I second that!
I seem to only live in seconds.
Rise in fog and clouds,
and a split second rain.
Or let me think for a second.
Could be second hand smoke.
And when the time comes,
to end that very small space in time,
I'll be ready.
In a second.