Clocks Have Insides, Too.

Transferring the energy from the earth to body as You lay.
To keep, On trudging throughout another monotonous day.
Your mind is molded and in the cooling kilm lay.
Burnt--and You, pour it in,
   Pour the water to thick the thin,
To mush so You can try to move,
   All the pieces together of all the groves.
So time can pass, where You will be aware,
   Of all the seconds that go to waste--to stare.
To feel the ticks and the tocks of life.
To feel like time runs out solely for You.
To feel like You, and only You can do,
   The things that matter,
   The things that save,
After all, it is only life that You crave.


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