Let's not waste our time
because fleeting moments
are so precious ...
----------------
Time is a great liar
who always has a few apologies
for not showing up when expected...
and just when you think you recognize it,
this rascal stretches out endlessly ,
or go back to childhood ,
offering you a thousand and one face...
Time is a void through information flows,
riddle in the form of quantum equation...
sincere false friend playing with the clock
and telling us :
'' It's already too late ! -wait for me a little longer...
I've changed the hours of seasons ,you know ?
I'll be back soon and everything will be like before ! ''
time doesn't heal a wound-it only adds a memory.
-'' I have to go now ! But don't worry ,
I'll always be watching over you !
Take care of the lonely child ...''
Time : You're only a bad habbit
who knocks on the door
without being invited ,
making the walls cry ,weary from having
loved too much ...
You drape a delicate veil over the empty cradle
and make the withered grave bloom again...
you still remember the name of the toys
left behind in the attic ...
the rats gnawed the Barbie doll .
Life passes,bowing out ,
Alice's rabbit will never return ...
We enter eternity without having written
our plea to time !
That was just a play ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 29th, 2026 11:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
the mystery of time and life
a mystery buried deep in the attic ...
the attic of our mind, dreams reality and hopes and fears
Our toys age poorly in the attic where rats abound. Memory polishes the silver and repaints the colors. Digging in the attic one finds defects never seen.
My teddy had a heart of grizzly ...
I hope the rats didn't get it
I never been back to the attic !
"That was just a play..."
But who said the performance is over? Perhaps, for us, the curtain has fallen.
And somewhere — in another branch of reality, in another state of matter, in another form of time — this very scene is still unfolding.
This ties in with that fascinating notion of a time folded in a cosmic attic !
Lorenz, this speaks to me. I have always found time to be one of the strangest parts of being alive…sometimes racing, sometimes crawling, sometimes carrying us backward without warning. You captured that beautifully, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
Looking at the stars is like questioning te past. Light is a messenger that always arrives too late...
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