Under Kelly’s clock

Waiting under Kelly’s clock
as the light begins to fade,
Has it come to this.
I, who was once the quarry of so many,
Waiting like a fretful boy,
For some old dame, that
Probably feels the same.
Feeling ridicules but still I wait.
Why the clock I asked,
But those that paired us,
Insisted upon it for old times sake.
Felt a snicker but refused the bait,
Perhaps it’s my fate to wait and wait.
I think of all the girls, that
Passed through my hands and hope
I hadn’t broken too many hearts,
I suppose a few, but then
Mine was broken too.
Can one recover
From a blow like that,
To be crippled in an instant,
To be dead but still alive,
I see it in my eyes,
The counting down of time.
The slow wasting away,
Like a cigarette turning
To ash upon a tray.
I had my day, my chance
And threw it away.

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