literature

wound by a clock

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Literature Text

I remember when I still kept, took my time
I never cared for competition
Or end ribbons, finish lines…

But somehow, somewhere
It became something of an obligation
And a race you might say….

It became about trying
To run as many laps…

Until you returned
And took me forcibly off the track….

I made an attempt toward completion
When I had but hours to go….
Before you ripped me…

From my own country…
And told me that I was lacking speed
That I was lagging behind…

And just how long does it take me
How long could I possibly be?

Then you turn to me and add
That I’ve got nothing…

Now I’m bound, wound by a clock
Put more effort into finishing…

Than what I’m doing…quantity over quality…
....
© 2015 - 2024 Emmaessence
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