Donkeys


art,clocks,photomanipulation,surreal,time-5ea8c31b1849b643b904751c02d5f7b7_h

Clocks have stopped but time has not

For time knows no dust, it barely sits still

And is impatient,

Like a little girl at the sound of the ice cream truck.

Time is gone, like sifted sand through my fingers, better yet

Tap water, treated with chlorine

Like days in your lover’s arms, like hours

Gazing at the sea. I

Sit impatient, legs swinging

Hitting the sideboard with a dull thud-thudding

An irritating awakening.

Life had been pushed into suitcases, bundled up

Like dirty laundry, tangled and misshapen, I am

Forced to run, run once again

Passport shoved in hand, I protest

I never asked for this. But

Does it ever occur to you that all you get in life are what

You didn’t really ask for anyway?

Morning falls like a burden upon one’s back, yet

Another weight for you to trudge along with, I crack

And bend, but groan and push on

Because we all are donkeys. Donkeys of time.

Nothing less. Nothing more.

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