Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

The remnants of the rain from yesterday

organize into an ensemble of sound.

The

thump

thump

thump

is nature's melody:

more beautiful than the beat of 1000 drums

or 100 guitar strums.

Tap

tap

go the droplets

slowly turning to mist.

Then nothing is left

but petrichor.

The clock ticks ever so slowly.

Time is eternity.

I turn my back to cope

and when I face the two ever changing hands

Two hours have faded away.

Watched a movie,

turned to check the time.

Six p.m.

Went on my phone

Checked the time

11:00 p.m.

Went to bed, and when I awoke

12:00 p.m.

And my days seemed like minutes

and the weeks were seconds.

Until I am 80 years old

and every day will be a decade.

And the weeks will be centuries.

And I wonder:

will time ever be what it should be?

a cloud hangs over the dawn

and spirits dampen

but not mine.

my spirit soars

like the birds unseen behind the mist.

and my mouth upturns

like the moon that can't be found.

but tomorrow

the sky will be clear.

and spirits will rise.

but mine will be held

in suspension.

waiting for the next cloudy day.

She is beauty, looks, pleasure

in an empty cage of nothingness

but I am skin and bones

and heart and soul

inside a mask of plainness.

But you chose her

because all you saw in me

was mediocrity.

And what you didn't see

in her

was emptiness.