Beating the Clock

A troubled sigh

From dehydrated lips.

A squint from drooping eyes.

A shaky hand with bitten nails,

wiping a frowning brow.

Minutes pass.

Heart beat is racing,

Racing against the clock.

A worried glance at the disappearing seconds,

One victorious sigh.

A closed book

A head gone to rest and running away to dreamland.

How did I get here?

Why the torture?

I didn't sign up for this.

Why?

Dark reality.

Strengthened moral.

Confusion lifted.

All grown up.