These Two Hands (poem)

This slow drone of ticking
Seems to grow rapid
The closer we get

Seconds to hours
Invaluable time
Slipping through our fingers

Grasping your hands in mine
Hoping to slow down and
Grant us more time

Running out on
Seconds we can never get back
Returning to find them missing.

These Two Hands Have Become My Enemy,
Trying To Keep Our Two Hands Apart.

-T.J.