Surrounded by tombstones
I’m claustrophobic
Within the walls
Of this confining minute
Tomorrow dies
While I breathe
The stale air of Today
Yesterday seems so dear
With its familiar expanse
Wooing me backward
Into the graveyard
Of my mind’s idyllic perfection
And the clock
Pounds out seconds
With slow precision
Melting into a lullaby
As I slip inward
And farther from
The Now
The Wisdom of Gavroche 