Too Little, Too Late

Time goes by quicker when staring at the constant hands of a clock on a wall. For me, time was momentarily halted or at least went by at a slower pace because my clocks never had hands. Devoid of the second hand. So I was devoid of the second hand and never realized that you had taken me for granted day after day, second after second. And one day I woke up to find a wrinkle. My first wrinkle just below my eye. I was mortified and angry. I knew that this wrinkle was because of all the stress and devotion that I had placed upon myself. Because as the seconds go by --so do our lives. I don't want to waste my days waiting for you. I don't want to squander away my youth thinking about what could be if I hold on just one more day. This is not living. This is managing. I want to live and be known. Why didn't you want to know me? I thought you did...

And you come to me with your mediocre words and expect them to suffice. It cannot be. I am better than that and you have given too little... and it's just too late.