If time moves faster
as we get older
do we count to ten
in our heads slower?
That explains the “here a day”
Gone the next
Feeling, the way each day
drags on
But at night not even a memory —
And what is night but a memory’s
remains
I want to live long enough to watch a day
go by in the blink of an eye,
For it to go from morning to darkness to morning again
Without all the waiting in between.
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