Hands of Time

If I Could Turn Back The Hands of Time

I keep blockin' open hand pimp slaps from time
Waiting for a moment to be mine and I
Decide then that I don't want to live another second
Just that one forever when time is too tired
To take it's toll on me.
If I could turn back the hands of time woefully
I'd hopelessly enjoy the respite from the abuse
Destined to be obtuse
Resonant is the accused
Of battery, infinitely powered by irony
I stand now on the reef of the ocean
Between the young and the older
But way before golden
And I notice a few abnormalities
Can't move like I used to, windmills hurt
And my knees are quickly loosing their faith in me.
I don't remember things I used to want to forget
And can't forget things I never wanted to know in the first place
I no longer have faith in being first in the race
You know, that feeling every kid has that
They are special?
I begin to wonder, what has "time" done to me
to make me melt into the pot
Yelling for it to stop
Because I now can't tell the difference
Between me and the throng.
I tried too long
To deny being young
And now
Time has made me live to regret it.
Youth is gone and I didn't live to forget it.

If I could turn back the hands of time,
I might go back to when I first learned to rhyme
Not because of the enjoyment of poetry
But it was the same time I tried to kill myself
And it's annoying me


I tried to turn back the hands of time
But realized time is me.
My hands pinned back to the wood
Back as it should
Crucified by the insanity
That time has made of me.

And when I realized
Time is me
It became sad to see
That time

Really never "was" in the first place,
and hence

This poem has been written anonymously
By hands that have yet to exist...