Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

The Power of Time

The power of time.

It slowly drains the color from our memories;

The heat from passions, the stain from our days,

And reshapes our minds deep in the matrix.

 

The power of time.

It leaves us, sighing, accepting of our losses

Which brittle age quietly steals away,

To leave us with copies, or with nothing.

 

The power of time

Then, is that inherited, timed decline

That we can see and feel day after day.

And, thus, gives rise to magical thinking.

 

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: