Just as I hold the manifestation of life,
In my hands curling towards the Heavens,
In perfect perfect curves and numbers,
Teaching me the meaning of life.

I wonder what should I grow up to be,
I could grow up to by my dad,
I could grow up to be my mom,
But…

There was a time,
When traveling,
Across distances,
Would take days.

Today it takes,
Hours or maybe,
Minutes,
Still no time.

The perception,
The freedom,
Of having time,
The prison of perfection.

Where has the time,
Why the hands of,
The clocks,
Run so fast now.

I don’t know,
Why,
This,
Has come…