Poetry

Quitting Time (#538)

Is it not yet time to leave?
Even if I tried hard to believe?
I know. I know. It’s not time yet,
Probably nowhere close I bet,
I hate the old waiting game,
It sets my patience aflame,
The clock doesn’t want to budge,
Every minute is like a trudge,
I’m counting every grain of sand,
I’m watching the clock’s hand,
Every minute feels so long,
Why can’t the day move along?

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.