• Isn’t it sad to think,
    so horrifyingly cold to ponder,
    That every start there was ever made,
    Was only there to begin an end?
    I’ve come in contact with this thought,
    As I learned some painful news,
    For you see, now, my time is limited,
    And now clock is on.
    Time ticks on, inch by inch,
    Each moment fading by,
    And all I feel is that dreadful creep,
    Of the end that’s coming near.
    Some say that when times are dark
    -time is very slow to part;
    So why my life is bleak,
    Time is flying right past me.
    Each moment is a constant race,
    Against the spin of the clock itself,
    And the harder I cling to every moment,
    The fast my time flies by.
    Now the truth has dawned upon me,
    Now I see the light,
    And now I know my time has come,
    For my last fare well.
    I really don’t want to go,
    I want to stay here much longer,
    But now the starting has begun,