Poetry Of Heart & Mind

Dear Time,

Dear time,

I am out of breath as I write you this letter because it is quite a struggle to keep up with you. Your always running so fast and you never stop, you must be very tired. Nevertheless, I am curious how you do it. How you never take a break or sleep? Also, why can't you ever wait for me?
I am rarely finished with my tasks before you run off with the daylight and I am never rested well enough before you bring it back. I feel sometimes you are but a greyhound chasing the plastic rabbit or the jackass after the carrot. I'd like to put the carrot and the rabbit in a stew so you will have no reason to run, but I fear my similes and metaphors won't taste so well to you.
You are, though, a thief in the night for sure. You come as fast as you go and you always take a part of me away with you, my youth. Nobody sees you when you come nor when you leave but your presence always leaves it's mark. A grey hair, a new wrinkle, a crackling knee, and a pinch to grow an inch are your calling cards left behind to let us know you came and went. Live a little, stop and have a chat!
You simply move to fast for me. Just a week ago, I was a child in my mother's arms. A little less ago, I was a pimple faced teen. Three days ago I had a grandchild. Two days ago, I laid my mom to rest as you'd came and went so many times shed had nothing left. Yesterday, I became a little stiff in every joint. Today, I'm aged like vintage wine and all alone. Tomorrow, if you keep this pace, I may very well be bones. So I beg you please, to slow it down, maybe walk instead of run, but if you really love me, maybe then you'd crawl.
I doubt you will read a word I've written so I'll just leave it here. I'll hang it on the wall for you to see as you come then as you flee. In the very least, I ask, when you come and when you've gone, could you please take with you a little less of me and leave a calling card thats not so plain to see?

Your friend,
Me