It Stops (but It, keeps running)
by Thomas K. Hunt
A gold pendulum sways behind the light
Casting shadows on my wall
White beams of white light strobe the room
Keeping time with a little gray ball
Rolling away the seconds
Each roll the same as the last
Moving to the future
Shaping the newly formed past
Time is the motion
Sometimes hard to see
Fixed by this clock tonight
it's crystal clear to me
Most time is wasted
It doesn't have to be
Lock that door behind you
Throw away the key
Step into tomorrow
Take the road with a new point of view
Hold on to what you need
Always search for something new
Go on, lend your smile
Throw some comfort in there to
Feel the love of a child
Hold on to that child in you
Winding up with no turning back
The hands keep moving to the right
All I needed to do
was change my clock battery tonight
05/07/2004