In these pages, in these words we will always exist
Because a clock can’t contain compassion
Not in the way we do
Because gears will only let love fall through
Will only grind it to nothing
But here
These pages may yellow with time
And crinkle in tears
The edges may rip from use
But this story
Will always be here
Running from the clock
And the calendars
Time will not stop this
For as fast as it runs out
It will never catch us