Fade into Memories
An overpolished watch sits on the counter,
an unnatural shine is present on the glass,
The leather band is torn on the edges but
it is not from weather or mistreatment,
but from age.
The watch has its own pulse
clicking away by the minute.
Time is still running out
even when no one is watching.
This used to daunt me
as it does most teenagers
Who are still full of life,
but have convinced themselves that humanity
is nothing more than their own memories.
Time however, does not care to hold your memories.
If anything it hopes you will forget them.
When your days blend into weeks
And you no longer care that winter is approaching
and with it the new year.
Still the watch keeps count of all that you lived
you may aim to photograph experience and emotion,
but it will never be tangible
and soon the clock will lose its urgency,
and the art of remembering will be
forgotten