borrowed time

the sitting in school

angry at the teachers because

the thought is that they are

somehow responsible for the

passage of time not spent doing

the things that one feels defines

their existence, the time

restrained by those who raise

one---those who expend finance,

energy & emotion to ensure

one’s survival, the creeping in

of  the work force---once thought

to provide everything (when one

wasn’t a part of the machine) &

now realized to offer nothing

of any real substantial longstanding

value, only scraps from the table

(a table that gets pulled away

inch by inch, year by year, quicker

& quicker) &

though one might have been

downright horrendous

when it came to math,

the addition here is relatively

simple.

 

0 + 0 = 0.

 

comes a times when

the ticking of the clock isn’t

terrifying as it was in

youth but instead it

brings with it the notion

that every heartbeat is one

closer to the end, rather than

some sort of indication of

how much there is to be

done, how many tasks need

to be accomplished because

it will bring one to some kind

of certain success or feeling

of fulfillment. 

 

all time is borrowed,

taken from the pool of

unrenewable resource,

with waves that fluctuate

of their own accord, with

no rhyme, no reason &

no apologies.