Small instruments
created to measure the quality of perishable man.
Torture reminds you that nothing is eternal life
slipping from their hands.
Fragmentation of existence in twelve parts
repetitive and unchanging. Tic tacs
like to listen again and again and
each
a moment that will never happen again.
materialization of what was visible only
in physical havoc in mortals,
as if this were not enough to know ourselves
finite.
Run and try to go faster than him.
Sometimes we want to stop,
to take some advantage.
But even with all
stop could remedy those ravages. Those clocks corporeal
employing
cracks in the face as a numbers hands and presses irregular
are inescapable biological instruments and functional
perhaps from the origin of life.
are born with them laugh, feel, cry.
live just hours and necessary.
And then we completed the turn.
Once there,
no more,
no less.
Some think that deep down we
eternal souls, but in reality
be respected.
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