How long has the world had so many clocks?
Ticking and tracking the worth of my day,
Tallying minutes spent and taking stock
Of minor progressions and major delays.
Likewise leading to unavoidable
Recognition of all that’s left undone
At days end as all hands move on schedule
To pull up the night and swallow the sun,
Which according to the clock by my bed
Will rise before I’ve been given the rest
To shed the worries that clutter my head,
Crowd out my thoughts and lay weight on my chest.
The countdown leads to my alarmclock’s chime
And another day without enough time.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder