A/N.
R&R! I've never done a poem/drabble/oneshot before, and I'd really like to know how I did. Even if you hate me, I want to hear about it! This is a short poem expressing the coldness of time, and it not only applies to this moment that I created, but many moments across many series. Well... enjoy!

Max flew in rapid, nausiating spirals all the way to the highest point of the Eiffel Tower. Alighting rather gracefully, wild hair snapping about her tear streaked face, she slammed herself down cross-legged and gazed out across the mildly apocalyptic Paris. People were swiftly recovering, but none of them gaped or pointed at her the way they would have a few days ago, before the explosion. Before Angel had...

Her throat convulsed painfully at the thought of Angel, her baby, who was gone forever, never to return. "If only Gazzy had had a few more moments to disable the bomb." she muttered aloud to no one in particular. "Maybe Angel would have had time to escape. If only there was more time..."

"Time"

The clock always moves

Forward.

It never

Stops.

Time never

Slows,

No matter the

Circumstances.

.

The clock takes no

Pity

On a broken

Heart,

A forgetful

Moment,

Or a desire for

Peace.

.

The clock has no

Time

For anything but

Itself.

It carries ever onward,

Alone.

Go ahead, press the little blue button. Right below these words. I triple rainbow dare you.