Solitude is Freedom, Loneliness is a Prison

Times come and Times go.

It's always time for something,

Time is neverending yet, always manages to run out.

Run out on every one of us,

Like the flakey friend who is always invited,

But never shows up and when he does,

He always takes off with his full agenda.

Making you feel like an insecnificant use of his Time.

Can Time have Time?

Does he always have Time?

Or does he never have Time?

Can he never find the Time?

Losing himself in the wirlwind matrix that is time,

Does he ever take Time off from the search of Time?

I know how time feels, I've lost so much Time.

Time thinking of you.

Time with you.

Stripped from the loose grasp that I had upon the concept.

Thrown into a black hole, nothing can escape a black hole, not even time.

Time himself is the black hole, from which nothing can escape.

Time gets sucked into the black hole of Time while taking his Time.

Taking time off from his search of Time.

Which can never seem to be found.

But has anyone looked for him in the black hole of Time?

The delemma is Timeless, Which really can't exist.

Just like our time, non-existant.

Unless we can make it to where all Time, even non-existant time congrigates.

If this is going to work take the Time to find the Time and meet me.
At the International Dateline.