if i had an angry poem this would be it

i tell my heart to be punctual
but i feel like its too late
with my last
experience
my hops and skips
and jumps
and the sudden stop
has my heart confused
like a watch to wear
but time
has never told the truth
the silly brands we
wear to
distinguish class
but trash picks up on
tuesday
and you are so last year
but you still decide
to dance around father time
like a little girl
innocent with a smile
in front
and a knife behind
so stab me in the front
so what i see is true
put me by the recyclables
so at least i am able
to be
reused
reformed
renewed