The measure of loneliness.
The day drags on, slowly.
A long wait for night.
Time is mocking you.
Night doesn’t bring relief.
Sleep is but a dream.
Sixty seconds, a minute past.
You watch the hour hand.
Each second of time.
In slow motion, a split.
Is time stuck? Tell me.
No. Time is not stuck.
Time moves on, not me.
The pull of quicksand.
Time drags, time crawls.
Sinking into loneliness.
Happiness makes time fly.
Loneliness makes time crawl.
It is but an illusion we create.
Time is constant. Timeless.
By C.E. Pereira
(16-10-2019)
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