Tick-tock

I am tired.

Always running.

It's always been this way for me,

Ever since I could remember.

I feel their glares constantly,

Expecting me to hurry.

Others wish I would slow down,

Or even stop.

I yearn to help,

To hurry or speed up.

Whether it's moments where lives are involved,

Or the happiest of memories are being created.

But I can't.

What I do is not up to me.

Everyone wants more of me,

But I am not partial.

I am fair.

In the future

My maker will put me to rest,

And finally I will be no more.