He is judging me
The man called time,
Waving his hands at me
Because he’s holding mine.
Moving the dials forward
He will not go back,
The only time I see the past
Is through the flashbacks.
I can hear him calling me
Through the clocks,
His messages are coded
Into the ticks and tocks.
Time is like a maze
It doesn’t freeze,
So many dead ends
Without any keys.
Those dials of his
Want me to break,
As they never give time
They always take.
K
the double standard is maintained
sexism woman can do almost
anything shatter the things that matter
glass ceiling
picked on feeling
x to y
oh me
oh my
ha h a ha
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Thank you 🙂
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excellently well written
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 🙂
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Pingback: Mr time — The Darkest Fairytale – Arturo's Stories Bizarre
Time is something we are all, running short of, and, the sad thing about that, is that, we don’t realize this, until it’s, too, late…
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Exactly, thank you 🙂
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