Time is a Heavy Door

Flooring it taking off

soaring through time

not a pause for applause

of a moment so cherished so sublime

arriving without notice

only to vanish, only bliss

wishing i had more day to my night

but forgetting that when i do

it's out of sight not a delight

in fright that it might not end

wanting more time

but when time is not the trend

we tend to wish it go by fast

seeing no near end in sight, so vast

it's a tidal force taking its course

it's a source to endorse and

take in foreverness.

Time. 

Always running tapering off

constantly evaporating in plain sight aloft.

Time.

Always wanting more to keep in store.

Time.

An open door

closing too quickly 

it's a heavy door

i try to hold it open

by living every moment in that moment

and maybe when my time ends

i'll have made amends, set new trends

that blend new meaning 

to rhymes i make

when writing about time

that's in constant descend.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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