Time At Play Poem, by tommytoons, at My poetic side

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

Comments +

arqios June 1st, 2022 21:12
Taken on board from such a quite persuasive and inspiring poem. Thanks for sharing. /Rik.
L. B. Mek June 2nd, 2022 03:49
such a wonderful and important message
thanks for sharing

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