Five18

October 30, 2007 5:18 a.m.

When I was little,

The clock stopped

On Christmas Eve

And jumped straight to

GI Joes

In a wink and a blink

And a touch of his nose.

But the days came --

The bleaching reality came --

And where my heart not sealed,

My joy, my joy, lost its color.

And so my life passed.

And when I was dying,

The Dark Accountant came

And left, beside me lying,

Different presents that crawled from

Memory to memory

And covered them

With pain –

Which is joy, rotten.

But now --

Benignly now,

The night passes

Time with me.

(He is older, you see)

And together we count my debts.

While to men, these debts growing…

My debts to God – no one knowing,

He has forgotten.