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I'm four, and I don't recall my father's face,

who soon departed for bread, as was the custom.

A common picture for a 90s family scene:

crayon graffiti swooping, whited blue on the wall, blushing calmly.

I recall the way we used to careen through the garages with kids,

soles with puddle marks, blown by winds and giggles.

Never worried about tomorrow, only about then, right then:

footy on cracked pavement, cans as goalposts, sweat crowns again.

Hands calloused, somewhere out past the finish line;

lost a last goodbye, bartered the day for a screen, wild abandon.

Time...cathedral bells ring, through these empty frames

Time...I've wasted so much, just chasing hollow games

Time...what's the result, lived third of my life?

Time...all my friends sailed, cut like a knife

Time...runs forward never, paying my debts

Time...clock choir keeps singing, filled with regrets

Time...don't pursue things, that leave you numb

Time...listen please, before you become

Smoke curling at fourteen, first taste sour, cold light slipping.

Danced with other bodies, tattooed arms, fists ready for stories.

Pressed their mouths against bottles, clinking midnights and plots,

not worried about after, only the now, drizzled clocks.

Bubbled through lessons, hearts stabbed by tipsy pride.

Sixteen on the brink, sent packing, paper thin surviving.

World spun round; I held on to impulse, fitful.

Trains that were late, never called home, too boisterous for regret.

Born to the fleet at twenty, boots stained with salt, Baltic mist.

Prayer wound around dog tags, lightning on steel decks.

Back, pieced together a suit for university's corridor,

but who did I imagine I would be at thirty?

Counted money, folded dreams, forgot to look for purpose,

forgetting forty too, drifting down the same numbing river.

If angels track the books, hours merely on loan?

Can I swap my missing minutes, extra second not my own?

Do I kneel on linoleum, sweep up shards to repair?

Or do I walk in the rain, outstretched palms, catching years in air?

Time...cathedral bells ring, through these empty frames

Time...I've wasted so much, just chasing hollow games

Time...what's the result, lived third of my life?

Time...all my friends sailed, cut like a knife

Time...runs forward never, paying my debts

Time...clock choir keeps singing, filled with regrets

Time...don't pursue things, that leave you numb

Time...listen please, before you become

Spouring out tales at thirty, ticking past lost regrets.

People I loved, lost in the blur, couldn't catch up, didn't hold.

All my stupidity built a pedestal for every lost year:

loose change, shattered hours, bartered laughter for slack habit beer.

Now the pews empty, friends lost, hands abandoned.

Sometimes I tally blessings in reverse, unravelled.

Never said proper goodbye; what I lost in grace.

All the attempts at escape turned to slack hours.

Now I instruct you, not in sermons, scars and questions.

Time...cathedral bells ring, through these empty frames

Time...I've wasted so much, just chasing hollow games

Time...what's the result, lived third of my life?

Time...all my friends sailed, cut like a knife

Time...runs forward never, paying my debts

Time...clock choir keeps singing, filled with regrets

Time...don't pursue things, that leave you numb

Time...listen please, before you become

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