Time seems to be my most unforgiving enemy.
I am racing against the tick-tocking clock,
But my desiring stare is locked on the calendar.
The years go by, but the days drag on.
Time seems to be playing a game on me
It seems to be frozen, but pushing me forward;
Time drags me along, but grounds me to the past.
It has me laughing, weeping, thinking,
Wondering and pondering if a time will come
When I can say that time is a dear friend of mine.
(unedited)
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos
PoetryWelcome to the chaos of my mind. A collection of original poems by me. "A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." -W.H. Auden "That was her gift, she filled you with words you didn't k...
