My Gifted Life

Slowly
It started
In the basement
Of a tall building

At first
Just the smallest
Cracks appeared
In the concrete pillars

Then
As seconds passed
The rumblings grew
And the ground shifted

Steel
Bent like rubber

Glass
Shattered and fell on the street below

In the top
Of that building
Lay a machine

Once pristine
Oiled polished bronze gears
Meshed and drove the clock hands around

Now
Teeth missing
Grinding and slowing
The clock stops at nine twenty four AM