Worry, in all of its painful actuality

The want 

the lust 

the fracturing desire 

to take our hands 

our will 

and place our fingers on 

the unmovable rock of time 

breaking our knuckles to move it an inch forward 

to bend it with our sheer power to our advantage 

but 

the crippling reality 

that our fingers are centimeters 

away from the rock 

and we are unable to reach any farther 

but our minds push us to reach

to swing and stretch 

to no avail 

till our minds collapse

and our fingers turn to stone

and our eyes start to bleed.