Time (Poem)—WhisperShade

Time

Not given much thought

In the general spectrums of life.

We waste it, spend it, kill it.

Yet,

We treasure it and crave it, long for it.

It stays the same, but

Changes through each window of perception:

Speeding up, slowing down

Taking too long or going to fast.

Whisking away opportunities but

leaving us with memories

We think we’re in control

We try to understand it;

However,

The mystical complexities of the orchestrated line of life

Make it incomprehensible to the limited mind

Of a human brain.

Though really,

It’s a countdown to death starting from birth

Counting every step and marking every word

Simplified to the endless ticking of a clock.