Time is many things, it has many faces
Flies by on many wings, running in different races
It Freezes and Falls Speeds up when it's needed to pause.
Ticks by when no time is left, tocks on when everyone is deaf
If trust is just a thing we most often misplace.
Then time is simply a thing we most often waste.
We have all of it in the world, but it's one thing we'll never find.
It can do many things but it’s never healed a wound of mine.
Your name feels familiar on my tongue
A false sense of security
Your name feels familiar in my lungs
A Hope for eternal serenity
Now I know,
Now that I’m older I understand
Why you put your head in that noose.
The days pass without you, but they’re never the same.
Revisiting old memories, reopening the wound from its source
Apathy has taken its course.
I reach for the frayed knots
A firm grasp and a steady footing
Without a shred of hope I cling
To the overbearing thoughts
That I’ll soon be forgotten
With these final words ill sing
This world was never meant for me.
If trust is just a thing we most often misplace.
Then time is simply a thing we most often waste.
But It’s never healed a wound of mine.
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