Now in my senior years, I look at time differently than when I was in my twenties. I can look back at ten-year intervals and see how time affected me. The older I get; time becomes more precious. I seem to have wasted a lot of time. In my youth I thought I was invincible and had plenty.  Then my thoughts were; ‘When I have time…’ Now time is shorter and I am not sure I have enough time. Makes one want to hold on to every minute.

 

Time is My Fall

 

Where does it go?

Does time find me,

Or do I find time?

Who knows?

 

Within time my youth goes.

My past becomes memories.

The years slip away.

Soon time inside grows.

 

Before I know....

The years have passed me by.

My age is only a fragment

Of time I let go.

 

My youth played games

My maturity paid the price.

Now my heart yearns

For more time to shame.

 

My only wish, today.

To make my time

More precious

It takes great effort.

                    to make it this way.

 

So easy to waste time.