I’ve lost time.
Lost track of where I left it,
(on a table at home, in a desk at work):
I placed it somewhere for safekeeping,
thinking, That five minutes will come in handy
later today or early tomorrow—
Just give me a minute, maybe two,
I’ll get back to you in a second...

First I have to find the time,
but with every turn I take
I keep myself from really keeping
the empty promises I keep making
to waste not/want not what little time I have...

I am the prodigal son who tasted
the time of his life and wasted his time
thinking, he had all the time
in the world to spend, not
knowing he was broke
to begin with in the end.


© by Mike Orlock.
Used with the author’s permission.