TIME HANGS HEAVY

TIME HANGS HEAVY
 

It's five o'clock, I've got two hours left to get myself ready.

The mirror reflects a stranger, not the man I used to be.

My family second to an ideal that is Marie.

It's five o'clock, there's no need to rush yet, what's this in my case?

Oh it's Ken's poem, I can still see the sadness in his face.

He does that so well, he wears hurt that would be easy to trace.

It's six o'clock, I've prepared my excuses so carefully.

Another parents' evening, my lies believed completely.

How can I be doing this? I should walk away from Marie.

It's six o'clock, I just can't be bothered writing a reply.

What's the point because what he wants to see me write is a lie.

His constant questions buzz round my head like an annoying fly.

It's seven o'clock, time for me to head into the unknown.

Twenty minutes drive, so nervous I forgot my mobile phone.

The park is deserted, forty minutes to wait on my own.

It's seven o'clock, I don't know if I can go through with this.

If only he could be satisfied just to cuddle and kiss.

But I know he'll want to subject everything to analysis.

It's eight o'clock, a time for me to start feeling uneasy.

The cold is invading me, my stomach is turning queasy.

No longer trying to convince myself this isn't sleazy.

It's eight o'clock, in the pub with Gordon having a good time.

Ken will be waiting, no doubt composing his next bitter rhyme.

His wishes, his desires are now so very different from mine.

It's nine o'clock, at last the headlights have stopped tormenting me.

An hour is a long time to ponder my own stupidity.

Time to head back to those who matter most, my family. 

This poem is from the novel I wrote way back in 1997.