18 January, 2011

Time

Time

Time infuriating eating me away.
Time is a gentle laxative all that matters is the movement
They’ve called it a vampire, a lover, a constant companion
leave it to me to compare it to a laxative.
Time Time Time
songs and poetry are written about our relationship I don’t know.
It’s defiantly a codependent one.

A letter to Time:
I have a love hate relationship with you.
If you were a lady or a man I’d leave ya.
In peace but leave ya none the less.
You’ve been with me from before my birth and
will be here far after my death.
Will you remember me after I’m gone?
Will I be one of the special ones to gather a tiny place in your mind?
A memory for you to visit once in a while,
or will I be something that has no matter even to remember what it was you
said as we were passing each the other by?

Time
even now as I write about it trying to define this you pass me by. Leaving tiny bubbling
moments effervescently dancing and disappearing into the ether.
The sun has changed it’s spot in the sky...time...the shadows of the tree’s are sitting in
a different place on the neighbors house and roof from where they were.


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