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Times are Stranger than the People

Delia M.M. Crowley

Watching a clock tick

through a mirror.

Eyes fixed

as the clock ticks...


1,

2,

3...


Its never ending.

Time will carry on

without me caring.


Through the mirror

is what's behind me:


A wall.

A clock.

Nothing else.


Emptier

than the eyes that see me.

"Time is man-made,"

I remind myself.


Each second that passes,

means something,

to someone.

But not me.


"Your time will come"

My time?

Its endless...


One second feels like a thousand years.



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