My feet pounding on the asphalt.
Breath comes heavy, sweat cleansing me.
Keeping the beat of my soundtrack.
Pushing, hoping for better time.
Deadlines looming, obstacles to overcome daily.
The clock ticks ever so slowly.
Eyes glance continuously, disappointment looms.
It could not possibly go slower.
But somewhere in between the hoping
for better pace, for warp speed
on the slowest of some day,
I know I cannot control time.
Every day, knowledge of time's passing,
gnaws at my heart, mind, soul.
I pray for time to slow,
for more time, a slower pace:
to enjoy these boys who grow
at warp speed, heart aching pace.
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