Time is a fleeting moment
A blink of an eye
Some of it is well spent
Some escapes us with a sigh
Fleeting, stalling, passing time
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years
Sometimes with no reason nor rhyme
Smiles, frowns, laughs, tears
Fleeting, stalling, passing time
Running away from us all
Allowing its demise seems such a crime
We try to push it away
Slow its rushing tide
Day by passing day
Trying our very best to hide
From this sad fact alone
One day it begins
Then one day sadly it is gone
Annette Fuller
Copyright ©2009 Annette Fuller