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tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-
          clock. It taunts
seductively showing off its ornate
hands
       in a circular dance
reminiscent of a gypsy life, 
    never stopping, never settling down

micromanage
          sun up to sun down, each and every
second
     these hands can't keep up
can't slow down those damn mechanical hands 
no matter how hard I try nor what method I use 
  I've found a deaf ear, a blind eye to 
my efforts, pleadings, beggings - 
           for more and more and more time
to slow down, 
     merely a fraction here, 
          speed up there
accommodate my silly mortal life 
    as if I,  a silly mortal,
mattered at all in the hourglass of sand that makes up our existence.
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