Clocks Poem by Ellowyne Forester

This is reality
Dying grass and wilting flowers that freeze and crack in the winter
And us breaking like glass
Shattering into millions of peices onto the asphalt, into the earth
Wanting so badly to turn back time.
Maybe I can do that for you
Open up a door to a little room
With large meaning
And turn back a clock
One clock
Out of a thousand.
Maybe then you'll understand some things better when everything
Is solved and worked out
And we don't have to worry
Anymore.
But then, of course, it will stop
Stop us in our tracks
And we'll all have to go back sometimes
To reality, dying grass and wilting flowers
That freeze and crack in the winter.

~Ellowyne Forester, age 12