Time is passing me by.
It flies into the past, around the city without lights.
It flies to the heart of the village, a whole of pure stars in the sky.
Every day,
As I walk down the path of memories, time passes with me.
It flies under challenging days full of sadness and misery.
It reaches the breaking point of my tolerance for depression.
Occasionally,
Time with me revolves around my warmest maternal feelings.
Sometimes,
Time passes with me deep into my knowing, void of colour.
However, I sit still with time today,
Counting my blessings: one, two, three, four...
Shahla Latifi
January, 2024
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Author:
Shahla Latifi (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 9th, 2024 15:11
- Comment from author about the poem: As much as I live for today and today's productivity surrounds me, my wandering mind connects to my past. As I mature daily- learning, growing and triumphing over my past- I still cherish the time that helped me evolve into a person with a strong vision of life.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.
As intelligent people, we think of tomorrow.
The above poem is about time- past, now and future. Thank you for the read.
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