The Clock of Age.

(Picture credits: https://www.wallpaperflare.com/man-made-clock-dark-wallpaper-ttvpp)

As years pass,

Age creeps slowly round,

Like the second hand of a clock,

As the minute slowly ends.

Twelve,

The big hand pointing to teen,

The small hand pointing to kid,

I’m stuck in between.

Too old to be childish

Too young to be mature,

Unbelonging, unwanted, unaccepted.

My age of innocence is slowly ticking past, and going…

At the stroke of my thirteenth year,

The hand rest on teen,

The burden of responsibility falls upon me,

At the same time, I gain control over life.

Time ticks by,

My age creeps closer to when the alarm goes off,

The alarm of adulthood,

The age of decision, maturity and responsibility.

-by Rania Singam (3rd place Poetry Slam)