Time At Play
(Tom Entrican, 06/01/2022)
The paint peels on a picket fence
In time it flakes away
Just when you think it all makes sense
Your feet have turned to clay
Time does not slow that we catch up
The tick’s just tock the doom
Of all that has to turn to dust
And point us towards the tomb
For all things go the way they came
Returning to the ground
When time tolls it is all the same
We go where we are bound
Time is the master of the end
So the color has to fade
It will not be a faithful friend
And never takes in trade
It does not matter, height or make
As beauty must decay
Like rotted wood or hardened cakes
Oh, time will have its way
Time is never lost or found
Nor listens to our plea
So enjoy it while you’re still around
And that my friends is the key