In Increments By Sam Tumblin In increments I walk,Closer to dirt — it stalks.Trying to outrun time,Yet ending in a senseless rhyme. Life becomes an endless race,Wearing hollow smiles to save face.Crowds drift like shadows in the rain,Laughing softly to disguise the pain. Every clock becomes a thief,Stealing youth beyond belief.Hands keep turning without remorse,Guiding…