Poem

I'm upset when 
the weeks go by slow
and I'm upset when
the weeks go by fast.

That just means
life is merely disappearing
within a calendar clock
and I can't do anything about either.

1974 never thought
it would turn into 2016
and now 2016
is known as a "last year".

That is depressing
in its basic context,
and makes mortality 
actually mean something.