Accusing The User. (Read Fast.)

There's always a reason to accuse the user,
The abuser because he wastes your time.
Time is a broken glass, it splinters against the block,
and the shock
hits you a thousand times in the face,
In the clock face.
The impact slams you against the wall,
No matter how tall you are, you'll still fall.
I'm sure.
The cure is to show your emotions.
The devotion will be so strong, even if you're wrong.
Back to falling.
I saw I was stalling,
It's appalling how easy it is to get sidetracked.
Someone will back me up.

I'm fed up
with not being able to have emotions,
I can't win,
there's no fight within,
And no way of knowing which way I am going.
So I'm sowing my love seeds,
I find I am greedy for time
which will be gone with the third chime,
along with the world, or what it stands for.
There will never be any more
because we are not sure
how often that clock will strike.
Except for now,
When we find out how long we have left to live.

I have nothing more to give.