Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Tick tock - stop
Please everybody slow down
Let's begin with a whisper
Tip - top, slow-down, stop
A pin point balance, rocking to and fro
The metronome swings towards home
Its shade travels ever so slight behind
For now it is the afterglow
