The Clock

The Clock

We can’t protect our daughters

We cannot protect ourselves

Loose and trashy we are labeled

If we try to build a shell

Of patchwork distant lovers

Who can never quite fulfill

The silhouette of Daddy or the Savior

But still

We seek the perfect romance

Obscured by candlelight

Promised in a lyric

Echoed by the night

Though laws for us are written

Seldom do we feel secure

Alone and disrespected

Injustice we endure

We fade into the shadows

Where even other women sneer

With misplaced pride and dignity

Our mistaken frailties

The blame is on the youthful

So eager to possess

That warm and cozy paradox

of strength and tenderness

Though some may take the high road

Sustaining past our prime

That coldness we’ll encounter

When nature tells a lie

The clock is ticking louder

But sadly we don’t see

The maestro in the tower

Controlling you and me