Dear Time,
I apologize. I am well aware that it is not my place to say such things, but I shall regardless. Sorry. A simple word, that can be read over and over, interpreted differently each time. I am deeply sorry, that you carry such a burden. Kids, youthful, as well as matured, beg for you to move quicker, so they can experience the secrets life holds, sooner, faster, now. Patience, forgotten, abandoned to the wind, in a holy cry for you to pick up the agonizingly slow pace, to grace each with the wonders of the world immediately. Unlike them, the elderly swear to the wind, for you to halt. To allow them, more, more days, more weeks, more months, more years, with their loved ones. For the moments they carelessly tossed aside, for knowledge, experience, only to regret it later. These are just examples, stereotypical instances, for many go through these trials, unaware of the two categories I listed. There are young, that only have short to live. Old that bow to the feet of death, willing you and him, to grace them with the mercy of dying. As well as others. I myself, fall under many of these listed groups, wishing for you to quicken at my will, to speed to the moment where I can truly explore. These constant burdens, I can only imagine, way down on your ticking shoulders, crushing your will continue. For this, I offer my apologies, for not only me, but also others, who have taken your gifts for granted.
With Sorrow-
Reyna Evans
YOU ARE READING
Greeting Insanity
General FictionI find comfort in the colors of the world That's where the "doctors" have it wrong Sticking people like me In rooms adorned only with Plain Crisp White Walls White room White bed White toiletries White necessities It's vile It's cruel And it makes...
