They say time never stops its race,
Yet it halted when I glimpsed your face.
Swift when joy paints its embrace,
And crawls in sorrow's lingering trace.
Time, they say, is precious gold,
Days flying, stories yet untold.
In the swirl of life, a tale unfolds,
Yet I stand watching, feeling cold.
People rush, purpose in pursuit,
While I linger, my path to compute.
Searching for meaning, a challenging dispute,
Yet clarity remains resolutely mute.
Days pass by, unmet goals in the rear,
Disappointment and regret appear.
Ideas to improve linger near,
Yet action remains engulfed in fear.
Wishing time would gently slow,
Freedom to let my endeavors grow.
Unhindered by a relentless flow,
For I sense time's relentless undertow.
YOU ARE READING
Voices Inside My Head
PoetryPoetry to liberate the tormented mind, yearning for happiness in the midst of madness.
