time
does not waste
time
it is rather
unkind
yet always defined
even when at the intersection
of a stagnant mind
coated with
rust and grime
but does it really matter
if i climb the ladder
and the rise into oblivion
is populated by one million
regrets
how can i forget
time
am i past
my prime
praying to ease the debts
of my spiritual crimes
helplessly
intertwined
at peace
yet feeling disinclined
i cant forecast the future
storm clouds always seem
to appear
the day you forget to pack
your rain gear
so quickly the fickle storm nears
and you find
that time
does not waste time
once the wind seduced
the chimes
when heaven and earth
were combined
now paradise is lost
in the thoughts
of restless minds
i wonder
is life a paradigm
a distinct context
from the moment i was extracted
from the womb with forceps
at the door step
of a philosophical concept
does my theorectical mind
tend to reject
and venture into a paradigm paralysis
too much analysis
so has it come to this
i cant wake without thinking
but when i opened my eyes
and started blinking
i find
that time
does not waste
or chase
the taste
of time
All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
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