February 14th, 2026Local Lines
TIME IS UP
They say that times are tough
Yet time has no discernible traits
It cannot present as strong or weak
It can only be an hour, a day, a week
and its characteristic does not
care what you seek
They say that it is enough
To wake, and breathe, and work
And time will inevitably reward
The pain of each day of facing the sword
Yet time is nothing more than a tick
then a tock and a hand moves forward
They say that love transcends time
That it lays above and beyond
Such a fickle, man-made construct
Yet both have the power to ultimately disrupt
All the dreams in one’s heart
and deliver nothing but constant mistrust
They say that time makes everything ok
The bleeding will thicken and stick
on the edges of exhausted skin
Mend bones and bruises on bludgeoned shins
Yet its passage degrades the flesh within
They say that time is fleeting
Yet its momentum can be relied upon
Measured and metered out with maths
No variance in its existence reacts
To the will of every little whim
and desire of every single psychopath
They created time to manipulate
The beating of one’s heart to a new rhythm
A way of life governed by bells and alarms
Devoid of natural and simple charms
Flayed to the core by clocking on
to a life full of lies and harms
– Anita Chompff
Anita is a poet, writer, and sandwich queen living in the Central Goldfields of Victoria.
Local Lines features poetry by locals about local and any other matters.
Please submit poems to Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com
