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Time
You and I can’t be trusted with time,
We don’t know how to get the best out of life.
Counting minutes, watching the clock,
Not for an abstract moment, but an obligatory chore,
To collect our coats and head for the door.
To return to what we know as home.
You and I can’t be trusted with words,
We clutch on to them and remain unheard.
Our delivery is stale, we fail
To echo the thoughts which were so well-expressed
Inside our hearts and inside our heads
Spluttering and stumbling instead.
