The numbers on a clock,
An everlasting epoch.
The hands on a face,
An enduring embrace.
All answers to one
Question that remains.
It is what we call
A prison sentence of penitence
The tabloids of New York
The cause of a clock's torque.
The process of existence without a gap or hole
In the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.
So many meanings with only one to choose;
Time is the reflection of our values.
~MAV~ **
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xX Bitter-Sweet Karma Xx
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