Time is a-wasting; yes it is,

Yes it is; and the gum seems to be

Running out of flavor now.

I think I see the DJ yawning;

The lights are back on

And the balloons have all fallen.

I think the girls want to go up

To the hotel rooms now

Wash off all their makeup

Take off their long dresses

And sleep for a while.

I think the guys want to go

Down to the pool and stand

Around the white whirring lights

Near the water, just to have a smoke

And look up at each other in silence.

I can see the staff picking up;

Stacking the chairs while we drone

On the dance floor.

But It’s not the tapping of the shoes;

Or the music, or the screaming

Or the laughing, or the teeming voices

Of exhaustion that I hear; no.

It’s the ticking of her wristwatch

And the drudging sound of failure,

Incremental as the night runs,

That drown my ears and remind me

Of the never-ending truth:

Time rests not when we sleep; it

Wakes not when we wake nor dies

When we collapse into the dirt;

It is the one immortal that exists,

Intangible and true; and goes on

As everything crumbles into history

And lore.


But I believe there’s just too little

Of eternity tonight to do anything about us.

The End

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