We complain about friends we are supposed to have,
Loves that we seem not to find,
Lives we are supposed to have.
Yet we sit and we wait...
For the friend that will never been found
For the love that will never blossom
For the life we do not lead.
And yet we wait...
And do nothing but sit and complain.
And wait.
12:03... the clock slowly blinks the seconds away...
With a tired flick of her wrist, a small flame sputter to life,
the dancing light illuminating her stark features.
"A candle to remember by" she sighs as a tear rolls down her cheek.
To remember what was and what was lost
at this most insignificantly important time.
She stares at the flame, lost in the memories of what was.
And behind her, the clock quietly blinks 12:04.