The sense of time evaporates,
Like a puddle on the street.
It does not wait for the tardy.
It has no wonder in laziness.
It brings daylight after darkness.
It brings life after death.
It can't be manipulated,
As there is no control over it.
You hear often, that time flies,
But that is a metaphor
To show the swiftness
Of how quick it is gone.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love ya!
Jane