Day 269: Man in the Clock Tower

"There's a man in the clock tower who holds my back up memory" read the text, it was funny because apart from the fact that it referred to me in the student building with the clock tower, it made me sound like a character. One that you write about in story books and though it rarely happens but I get a chance to write in the second person as someone who is separate and outside the scope of the subject directly but rather writes indirectly about himself. In my case "Man in the Clock Tower" seems like an obvious choice.

Man in the Clock Tower
The man in the clock tower, he counts the hours of the day
He places faith in things that somehow manage to slip away
He remembers them perfectly, every moment clear in his head
Every time he relives a single day, and as he puts himself to bed

The dreams that he dreams in perfect synchronicity
Are in colors that are yet to be painted on a canvas by me
He wanders off from one place to the next, in thought that lay free
As he lays it down, bared for the world, all in all in poetry

The man in the clock tower, he seems to hum a tune
He is both loud and quiet at times, resonating in the room
The hands of the clock chase each other, one after the next
As he crosses off his to-do lists and puts his day to rest

I write fiction about true people tonight, hoping some of it were true
That some of it meant something and when needed came through
For now I keep writing, sitting up high in the clock tower room
As the night fades away I wonder what do I write to? and for whom?