Time, an elusive, fickle friend,
Been there since the beginning,
Will still stand at the end.
It steals and it cheats,
Cutting itself short.
Prying its privilege away
From those who deserve it most.
Time is the gamemaster,
And we play its game
Moveable pawns in its grand scheme of things.
Like a chess match and like any game,
From the start to its end,
No thing stands the same.
Time changes its world,
Changes its players,
Nothing can be counted on in a game of ruthless playing.
People change at time's unpredictable whim,
And it stirs up a storm,
Every move it wins.
It lasts for a little, or it lasts forever
It's lost or found or begrudged or enabled.
Time's always been the ultimate test
As in a game of wits,
It unearths the best.
It buries the truth or preserves it for generations,
It plays both parts, hero and villain.
To no end, time escapes us,
It leaves,
It returns,
Forever to haunt us.
Unless we can beat time at its game,
Everything, the good and bad, just stays the same.
Make the most of each moment,
Treat each encounter your last.
Never take for granted or assume how long time lasts.
YOU ARE READING
A Book Of Rhyme, Rhythm, And Time
RandomThis book is a collection of loosely organized ramblings - they resemble poems, but aren't structured to be poetry. Raw emotions from the thoughts and life experiences that afflict an average girl's everyday life, these are unfiltered, and as authen...
