More years are coming

Morning off from work again, and find myself here, writing.
Years are now gone, but more years are coming.
Traces of the past stays, I must live along with.
In time, in hopes, will be erased.

My wrist watch, I always carry,
I took it off and hide it away since the get away,
Wishing the time would stay.
I never leave without my wrist watch,
For me, it is my comrade.
Always keeping me in track, 
and never missing a time of my life.
Now, my watch, u get some rest.
I will tick tack myself, at my own pace.

My hair, I care,
I cut it myself a few days after a trip.
And another cut a week after a break up.
So as I speak, it is right up on my neck.
Each time, it gets shorter and shorter,
But now, I will let you grow.
You can not be in trouble too.

Nemo, my dear huge given stuffed toy,
A week ago, I placed u away, And I am sorry.
For now, u sit on top of my closet with dust u get dirty.
But soon, I will wash and find you a home where u can belong.