I cannot wear watches,
for they do not want my time.
My blood is tainted;
poison to their mind.

Long ago, when I walked
my share of sand,
I was smothered
and then punctured
by a villainous needle,
injecting me with
an army’s worth
of iron,
of disease.

Now, as consequence,
I am forever cursed
with the death
of a thousand clocks,
and counting.
With a mere flick
of my marked wrist
I managed to ****
Father Time,
and I did not
look back.

I cannot progress,
nor can I rewind
to a better time.
I do not know
what my future holds,
for I do not have
a future,
and I never will.

My life is destined
to stay
right where it is.
I will not step forward
and I will not
fall backwards.
I will stand in place
without surprise
for as long
as the sun
does rise,
and when it too
no longer
arrives
I will still continue
to live to the fullest
on my mountain
of eternal
intermission.