i don't have enough time on my hands
it's slipping through my fingers
like sand it's running through
not a minute of it lingers
the clock hands move too fast
every hour slips away
they've told us since we were children
to number up our days
but i don't know what to do
because the count is too low
my days are too few
time refuses to move slow
i'll admit that i don't try to fight it
i don't try to save time
instead i'll just lie down
because time isn't mine
i have no control
so i'll just wait until
time takes my soul
YOU ARE READING
BURN (Wattys2015?)
Poetry"Poetry...is thoughts that breathe and words that burn."--Thomas Gray "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." --Leonard Cohen Poems on the tough stuff in life. Poems on the crazy good stuff in li...
