the clock ticks,
as I scoop in and watch the circular platform aligned with numbers.
tick tock, tick tock,
as though ironically hypnotizing me into a world unknown of time.
so much has changed,
in the countless rotations the two hands had taken;
changes that surprise, that hurt, that reveal the better or the worse.
i can’t sit still,
without my heart throbbing fast against my chest.
as much as there’s positive revolution that has transformed me,
and my future,
there’s packs of possible regrets;
regrets that were always recognized,
but never worked on,
because there was time;
regrets that were held back from rationality with unfounded hope,
but never cued a different pair of eyes at,
because there was time.
but time’s running out now.
life’s too short to regret,
to throw at myself possibilities of what could have happened,
to cocoon myself from coming experiences.
clocks are only circles of time symbolizing life;
every tick conveying a lost opportunity that whisked away in the second,
and every tock reminding you of the same.
life and clocks aren’t meant to make people feel waves of repentance,
but to use the tides as new starts.
I scoop myself up to look at that circular platform aligned with numbers,
from time to time,
to live in a trance of dejection, possibilities and regret,
as the hourglass drips the sand within.