Zero minutes, one second:

A day. Another day.

These are the days poets say

put on a summery display.

One minute, twenty-five seconds:

I form my outfit quite womanly

in which a princess you may see;

today that princess will be me.

Two minutes, twelve seconds:

Though when these mad people fade

my darkest pains cannot be swayed

to form a heart from a spade.

Two minutes, twenty seconds:

Something changes beneath us two.

I'm the same; it must be you

who does coldly force it to.

Three minutes, eleven seconds:

It looked up then; it looks up now;

it lures me with no charm somehow

and obligates my head to bow.

Three minutes, twenty-nine seconds:

All is fine; it seems to be;

Life dares to get down on one knee

and promises to marry me.

Three minutes, thirty-five seconds:

Glass rains down from all the stars

and tiger-stripes me with new scars

and deafens me within these bars.

Four minutes, zero seconds:

Hard enough, I punch the wall,

yet along with it I do fall.

I can win some, but not quite all.

Four minutes, thirty-two seconds:

The tears look choice upon my face

and all artfully interlace;

this world seems to not hold grace.

Five minutes, fourteen seconds:

The brightest soul I've ever known;

I see inside me it has grown.

My angel keeps me not alone.

Five minutes, fifty-nine seconds:

Now I grasp truth's deja-vu;

we can reverse, me and you!

Now I can trust all that I do.

Six minutes, fifty-three seconds:

Like a ghost, I know you not,

though once I had you, my inkblot;

a name is more than just a thought.

Seven minutes, forty-seven seconds:

Low times ring like a church-bell.

You were the Heaven to balance Hell;

just build your soul; all will be well.

Eight minutes, twenty-four seconds:

Life and liberty again exist;

foolish Sin, though we once kissed,

your burning noose will not be missed.