A flutter of that second hand,
Chaos has arrived.
Sinking from your quick defeat,
A mind once gone awry,
A flash of chance,
A cure is derived.
One simple circle, candy coated,
Lies beneath the clock.
Inspiration blocked by a daily Zoloft.
The water runs,
Down it goes,
Thirty minutes till the shock,
Stress suddenly slows self respect to soft.
A conscious now defeated,
Feelings put on hold,
In the name of yearning,
Minds must be controlled.