second thought, second hand

ten

is the number of seconds left
before the numbers stop changing
and stand as still zeros
like a pause before reacting

nine

lives like a cat
stalking shadows in the dark
where sight is long forgotten
and light is just a spark

eight

is divided and subdivided
chopped into pieces
that we think we understand
but the solution has too many creases

seven

is an ugly number
an outcast from the rest
and is not getting any better
but always feels so strangely blessed

six

is always mistaken
for what's actually on one's mind
which is not the claim
that one thought it was a nine

five

a handy but despicable number
a friendly middle
neither agreeing or disagreeing
not accepting nor exposing the bull

four

is much like eight
another subdivision
a time that sticks
like indecision

three

is there
and will never crack
it tells us it is friendly
then stabs us in the back

two

is a stranger
like a demon that
always whispers
"not quite there yet"

one

passes by like a blink
it is such
an insignificate number
that represents so much

zero

and the bomb explodes
and everything stops
except for the numbers
meaningless strings of digits
that are completely relative
and that are changed
by relativity
by the government
by anyone who pleases
my time is not over
for my clock
is still at ten
and is slowly counting down
sinking down to a hole