Time is My Enemy
In all my lives,
The story was same
How does it matter
who was source of my grief.
Some mysteries remain unsolved
some I am afraid to solve
Lets Begin with Begining
If I could find one.
Time takes it toll
even if I am timeless
All that was once precious
has lost meaning.
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There is a saying that men spend so much time trying to figure out life…that they don’t have time to live it …enjoyed reading your poem.
slpmartin - May 27, 2010 at 1:54 pm |