A snapshot in time,
that's so cliche.
No, it's more than that.
It's memory in a frame,
frozen time that will never
return again.
A split second,
more cliches.
Old friends, former friends
ex friends, ex partners,
ex lives.
Life is recorded in those
frames, but not only the past.
The metal inscribed corners
know everything, their curves
bending around the past
connecting it with the present
and the future as the grandfather
clock ticks in the living room.
Ticks, ticks, that dreaded sound
we're all closer to death
as it ticks and ticks some more,
all older, but not necessarily wiser.
it haunts and taunts, its arms
control everything.
Time, ticking, ticks go by.
Life goes by
while the clock ticks.
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