Revolving Doors

Not possible is it to turn back time.
Or have it stopped by man-made clocks.
Heard to hear and watch tick tock.
Disbelieving the time it is.
And what around them clearly appears.
Someone, somewhere will ask,
'Would you happen to know...
The time?'

Although it is possible,
To be conscious and aware...
Of how we use and spend our time.
Whether or not we find that to do,
Without making excuses to not have enough.
To enjoy,
Something done to do different and new.

Yet what is man-made,
We do the best we can to waste our time...
Finding it to spend on nonsense.
Left to prioritize.
Creating our own boredom.
Done to repeatedly do.

As if we choose our minds,
To remain revolving doors.
With nothing else to explore more than that!
Fearing to leave a routine left behind,
May be found by someone else to value.
And treasure its worth.
Worthy enough to sit and miss,
The sharing of it reminisced.

'Hello?
Who is this?
I am so glad you called.
It has been awhile since I've seen you.
What have you been doing?'

'The usual.
The same.
Nothing!'

'Well...
That's good to hear.
At least you have not changed.'

'And you.
How about you?

'Me?
The same.
Nothing new.
It's the same old stuff.
Day in and day out.
And I remember the times,
We use to enjoy talking about the old days.
What happened to them?'

'Nothing happened to them.
We just got a lot older!'