If the clock hands could talk
About the speed of time
They'd mention the blue swing
And the laughter
And how quickly it broke
The clock hands would whisper
About homework gathering dust
Windows sliding open
And sneaking to the park
When the clock hands flew by
In a drunken haze
I woke coldly on the floor
And they slowed to a stop
The hands struck loudly then
Echoing

If the clock hands were honest
About the seconds they skipped
Then days, even years
Fell away without notice
As the clock hands now gaze
At a face that grows lines
They shudder
Then slowly flick back
Resting somewhere between 12 and 1