TIME

Have you ever really thought about
what you hardly notice is there?

Inside its meaning is a frightening affair.
It’s something that’s bound to occur, we all know.
Something that never stops,
but is always on the go.

So slow,

the arms on the old cat clock,
that’s perched on the kitchen wall,
that goes tick-tock.

It seems these years are passing me by.
Each year that goes on
It’s easier to decry time’s passing.

Time has no sympathy for me.
I’m running out of time,
while life’s holding me.

Could it be in my mind,
when I see the time?

Metal hands moving forward,
I wish they’d rewind.

Unkind, that clock.
It just won’t wait.
It doesn’t understand.
Its purpose I hate.

But, I know if I strive,
somehow I’ll succeed.
I’m racing against time
and it’s winning, indeed