A poem about time

How oblivious, cold and indifferent time is

Time. I command you to stop. This instant. This very moment. For I do not want to age.



Please stop tormenting me with the steady 'tick tock' of your hand, as if it was the dainty hand of a proud, giggling woman, waving off the advances of a man desparately in love, pursuing her with a vengence.



Stop. Stop marching on, so oblivious to the graying of my hair. Give me back my youth, merciless one.



I do not want to age.