Time is my drug, my addiction. <br />Tick toc, tick toc, tick toc. <br />I am running out, I panic! <br />I steal some from another. <br />Not knowing how much they have, <br />But still trying to add to my own lot. <br />There is never enough. <br />Always wanting more. <br />Waste mine, utilize another's. <br />Yet mine is more valuable? <br />At least that's what I think. <br />But really, I don't think. <br />I am just another thief. <br />Until it is another that steals mine from me. <br />I then realize the value of the currency. <br />If I share it, it cannot be stolen from me. <br />My investment grows. <br />As I invest mine in another, <br />Many begin to invest in me. <br />For now, it is no longer an addiction. <br />It is now my conviction. <br />I have let my hands become, <br />The hands of time.<br /><br />Ryan Lee Morris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hands-of-time-9/
