“How did it get so late so soon?”
― Dr. Seuss
Do you hear the quiet tick
Of the seconds passing by;
Then the tock accompanying
Unheard, or worse, unheeded.
Their race, begun with hope
At the glorious birth of a soul,
Slowly turn to frantic
And helpless madness;
As they will soon cease
Counting those hours passed
And turn to the more somber task
Of counting the minutes till they stop.
Irony is writing about wasted time as I shamelessly waste time