Missed Beat

A cracked screen glows in the dark,

20 minutes too late,

alarm bells drowned

in the quiet of dreams.

The meeting room sits empty,

my voice lost beneath the clock’s tick,

and three missed calls blink red

like broken promises.

I rush out, breath heavy,

feet pounding against a day

already running ahead—

I carry the weight of a minute missed,

longer than I can hold.

The screen fades,

and I am left chasing

what time has already stolen.