time, passing
we possess nothing
but this moment
and must give it away
to receive
the next
time is a cruel gift.
we can only cherish it when we have it.
we cannot give it away for another to use, nor can we reminisce when it’s gone.
we find it so easy to waste because it’s quantifiable.
lifespans become data,
we picture ourselves on a timeline and see eternity ahead of us.
so, we procrastinate until grey becomes a feature on our face,
a dwindling accumulation in our brain,
with memory setting sail a little sooner each day,
and then a time and date is called after one final breath.
one last second left to be present until we are neither past, present, nor future.
we exhale into dust
and live as light with the stars.
-garr_ck
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I hope you enjoyed this poem. If you did, be sure to like, share, and comment how it made you feel.
-Dan Garrick