A desperate sadness

Happiness is but a globe of sand,

Time stopped perfect in the remote vessel of hope,

Captured but for an hour and then flipped again,

Or rolled along until it breaks.

Asking for time might be an answer,

Asking for rhyme may be my cancer,

But I want nothing more than to live,

With the message despite the perfect breaks,

Despite the time and how it flows.

I wait on all I do,

But forever not I can’t be sure.

What perfect timing makes for you.