Catching Wind

From time to time, I grow tired of the ticking clock

Beating exhaustingly, signaling my nearing end

Those times, my tired eyes fall on their bags

Letting my ears flow to breeze's voice

It's soothing, tranquil noise

Slipping cleanly inside me to its whims,

Just as gently escaping my grasp

Ceaselessly it strikes my quiet cords

As my tears stream, awaiting more,