A poem I wrote in grade 9, which doesn’t fully make sense to me anymore but it was just interesting to look back at it after so long:
Inflexible, Unstoppable, Imminent, Ungraspable
Every second steals a part of it
The most miniscule fragment runs away;
Even now as my laborious pen moves
And crawls on the white wall of paper,
In every particle, with every word,
In every book, with every annotation,
Faster than the ant on the windowsill
Faster than the rapid beams of light.
In horizontal lines, and indefinite curves,
It treads through it all, crawling through my nerves.
Behold, it’s arriving
But it crawled through that hole.
Try again tomorrow,
Catching the time.