No one wants to be the bearer,

But the future's there to face

Each calendar date,

Each book we read

Is a path we have to trace.

Every phone call I avoided

was just leading up to this:

a broken clock,

a taxi cab,

a flickering sign over a bar.

A clock ticking,

A stopwatch ticking faster,

Fleeting happiness before the crash.

T-minus fifty

Good news, bad news,

I'm not ready for this.