I blame it on the clock,
and its vendetta on our youth.
I stumble through another door,
yet it closes in your face.
We waste lost 'I love you's
through distorting glass -
futilely making the struggle last.
Til you turn your back and return
to your room which I've known
for so long before.
So I step forth into this new
expanding hallway, hoping the
rooms I try aren't barren.
Maybe one day your face will
appear behind one -
will my hoping help or should
I just move on?