I am not the hands on a clock,
that is a mere distraction.
setting of the sun,
rising of the moon
these do not control me.
I never stop
Visible universally
Overabundant.
I am
Wrinkles on your skin
Permanent creases
after decades of smiling
begged for more of
when a loved one is dying
Wasted, without a second thought,
taken for granted
given away freely to undeserving.
I am not promised
I can
end
begin
whenever I choose.
However
When I’m gone,
I am depleted.
Hopefully
It is time well spent.
– Breelyn Shelkey
Yes……well spent 🙂
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I like the way
your poem
ticked along.
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🙂
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