Time’s a thief and it’s a friend,

It brings the story to its end,

It sweetens grapes,

Decides your fate,

Takes love and gives it back again.


Time doesn’t wait, it doesn’t stop,

Doesn’t let you rewind the clock.

It goes forward ever,

It pauses never;

Running always, it will not walk.


Time draws the day to a colorful close,

Painting the heavens with expert strokes.

It sets the sky on fire,

But doesn't stop to admire;

Marches on as though beauty weren’t under its nose.


Time brings round the seasons at their due,

Winter’s cold gray, summer’s hot blue,

Spring’s awakening,

Autumn’s cool chastening,

Each with a beauty pure and true.


Time steals the magic moonlit night,

And covers with day the stars so bright.

It makes you go home,

And sleep alone,

Ignores your wishes and you can’t fight.


Time eats the happy golden year,

Sweeps away the one you held so dear,

It ignores your cries,

Heartbroken goodbyes,

It cares not for your sorrowful tears.


Time ends the lives of those you love,

Sending them off to someplace above.

It sees not your sorrow,

But hastens to tomorrow,

Even as you tell time it wasn’t enough.


Time stitches the wounds of a broken heart,

Makes distant the pain that tore it apart.

It soothes like a balm,

Brings about sweet calm,

Makes mild the taste once bitter and tart.


Time brings the ending of your life,

Its love and hate, laughter and strife.

Caring not,

And seeing naught,

It cuts off your breath with its pocketknife.


Time’s a thief and it’s a friend,

The story of it will never end.

It will sweeten grapes

And determine fate

Without once looking back again.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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