The Passing of Time

 

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Time is but an abstraction

A name to call this thing

That passes from our hands

And leaves itself untouched

 

It wanders through our world

The present and the past

Our lives are so aligned with it

That we are not untouched

 

For time will always be

The judge to rule our days

For we allow the concept hold

And fear it passing on.

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Published by

quiall

I am a woman with a mission: to live life to the fullest. I will not let an itty, bitty incurable disease stop me. It may slow me down but like a ship dragging an anchor, I'll get there eventually. Walk with me at www.butterflysand.com

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