Her mouth twists into a smile. A couple of hours later it becomes a frown. It looks a little lopsided, doesn't it? One arm is longer than the other; and faster.
But she doesn't care. Nobody does. She smiles and frowns all day. For she is but a servant tell, the true master of the day.
Time. It reaches out to us. Tells us what to do and when to do it.
Time. An age old foe. For no one can escape it's cages.
Time. A fabrication of the mind. It traps us all in it's never ending orbit.
Time. It's just like a dime. Our future depends on how we use it.
I've picked this word to write a poetry about today since I'd gone off schedule due to falling sick. So here's a poem about time and its servant. clock. We all have the same amount of hours a day, so why are some people able to keep everything on track while others fall to vices such as procrastination? I've been watching a few Ted Talks and the monkey one stuck out to me. Also the paperclip for a house. Anyways, I'll end the note now and get on to writing another poem. I do hope that you enjoy a new experimental writing style I've used!