Ticks to me, Tocks to me

It's 2 am or so the clock ticks to me, it tocks to me every breath another click, with something more to say, what did you do today? Was it worth the moments I let slip past. Was it somethings first, or was it somethings last. Did you make a mental plaster cast of an event, was there something heavensent or something unintended, or was it something all pretended. was this time you spent defended, ascended on by more than you can say, was it worth it to wait another day. Was there one more song you meant to play, another note, but It's too late. You gravitate toward the what is next you have no choice no point to raise your voice, or to reciprocate the hate you saw, it's all apalling any way. it'll wash away when comes the dawn. I don't recall all that's past and let go, but it will all be seen in the history of tomorrow. Only a million years that led to this point to enjoy it or to spoil it, don't foil it. It's all within the past you cannot grasp with out the idea of infinity, an affinity for the vast mass of the unexplored unimplored upon our beings. We are not weaklings, these daily dealings, we run the gauntlet, aren't we great yet? We are not set, but ever changing, re-arranging our DNA our revolutionary evolutionary bounds we leap and stride side by side beyond all that's implied. Our souls, our own each new day that's awaited with breath that's baited and never relegated to the standards of yesterday.