Haste

Written by C Hues

May 31, 2023

Here’s a hopeless sense of haste—
Trying to turn time to our tune.
Looking at this world we waste—
Growing jaded, approaching June.

If tomorrow never came
And the Earth slowed to a still,
Yet somehow we still remained—
Could we fix all the world’s ills?

Would right and left meet in the center
Or would the center fall apart?
There are doors we dare not enter
And some change won’t enter hearts.

As it stands, the clock still ticks
All the time would not mend
Men’s constant call to conflicts
So we start same as we’ll end.