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Clock
I put too much pressure on my pencil
And I clench my eraser too hard
Hoping the story I right won’t be boring
I find that the more I struggle the faster I sink into quick sand
Or rather the sands of my own time
Have you noticed as a kid, when you pick up sand?
No matter what you do it slips through your fingers
Exfoliating you until there is nothing but what you are
I want just for once to be able to see time fly by,
To dance extravagantly with every second,
And for once have time acknowledge me
As I have acknowledged it.
Me hugging you and you not hugging back
Me knowing that every tick is a laugh, cry, or sigh
But you’re too busy to rap your big hand and short hand around me
And hug me back
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