It seems I am a magnet,
for pain and confusion and stress,
a sufferer of circumstances set against me,
and the few moments of peace are not to be found,
for the clock is ticking.
A new grief to join the store of empty spaces inside,
or an old anguish whose edges are forever raw,
a life to plan and decisions to make,
forgotten things still needing to be done
and always the clock is counting down.
Counting to what, I still don't know...
a nervous breakdown, an outburst,
my life finally making sense...
or maybe just me having had all I can take
and finally saying I quit.
It's like dominoes -
one by one, things go wrong
until finally the ticking pauses for a moment
and you look around and notice:
this is not where you planned to be at all.
This is not how it was supposed to go,
this is not what you wanted.
But scream that as much as you want,
it doesn't change a thing.
And still the clock ticks on.

08/13/2001

Posted on 09/20/2002
Copyright © 2025 Amanda J Cobb