The clock ticks away the seconds.
3,600 an hour.
86,000 plus daily.
Over this you have no power.
No matter if you're working,
Or yourself to spend the day.
Breathe in all of the seconds,
Till breathing's taken away.
If you are in a healthy body,
Admit your mistakes, confess.
Cleansing yourself of guilt,
Your inner voice fills with zest.
And, if your earthly body,
Isn't quite up to snuff.
This does not mean at all,
You're not made of the right stuff.
I could spend my seconds being lazy,
Or working towards a promotion.
Whether or not I'm sleeping,
The seconds are always in motion.
Like the wrinkles across one's brow,
Visible clearly across one's face.
It's the seconds that carved them there,
Each one, their designated place.
So, whether or not you're mobile,
Very fit or sedentary.
The clock ticks the same for all,
With or without batteries.
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Author:
PoetVids (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 2nd, 2022 18:07
- Comment from author about the poem: Your minutes and hours and years are precious. Use them wisely :)
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments1
Yes, to make time one’s dearest friend; most especially, this moment.
What a sweet comment. Thanks Gary!
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