We walk briskly
for things so breakable,
unconsciously,
we run from time,
for time does not hesitate to take
our youth,
our energy,
and eventually,
our lives.
And so we run
run run
to do,
to love,
to cry,
to live,
to be,
before our time is up,
and he comes for us all.
YOU ARE READING
A world unlike your own
PoetryNot poetry, just words. My world is different to yours. Here's a slither of it. Come find me Best rankings: #1 in Poembook #1 in Therapeutic #3 in Thoughts #29 in Poetry
