9:11

It is 11 minutes past nine in the night.

I happen to see the clock that

Sticks to the wall

Since my father taught me

Read time from something that ticks

Every second of its life.

It never occurred to me

The other side of the clock that

Soothes the wall

I have never seen.

How come that happened?

What have I seen really does not matter

Since the hands that taught me

Language of a clock

Doesn’t go back in time.

I just wish this clock stops ticking here

Remain quiet at nine eleven

Like it’s other side.
_____________________________________________
(Random thoughts - 2011)