Time sounds so loud in the hush of night slipping into the unknown
Tick tick tick into the uncertainty of a tomorrow not promised
Ticking to nowhere, nothing, everything and something
Time, as fragile and fleeting as life, a moment lost never regained
Here in the dead of night, I steer into the darkest surrounded by the ticking sound of time
Wondering, where does it all go
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
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