The seconds tick by
Slowly.
My eyes wander.

My mind wants to
My heart bleeds for it
But I’m still so dreadfully
Unwilling.

The time escapes
Through the hands of the clock I suppose
I’m certain of it, actually.
It’s odd.

I want to—but I don’t
I try to—but it’s so hard.
Romans is actually for real.
Surprise.

Fast forward a decade or two
And I know for a fact
That I'll look back on what I didn't do
With regret.

So I'd rather push too hard
On the wall set before me
Than later weep because I hardly pushed
At all.

So I'll challenge those hands
Of time.
They won't get the best of me.