A Pome a Day for a Year

End of day, hit da bricks,
stepping over that metallic threshold
into greener pastures for but a moment,
toxic movement takes control
and time is a falling,
those cracks are not getting any smaller!

Calendar calling at years start,
but midpoint diary, traipsing all over
appointments with destiny
or just plain old
rent reminders, think of the time!
Those struggling hours constricted
by squares!
Those temporaries for use,
never to be retained!