Time is Pen on Paper

By
Our lives are a work of art,
But we do not hang on a wall in a museum.
We are continuous poetry,
we are never a final draft.
We live forever with the author,
With the artist.
Each day a new brush stroke is painted.
Each minute a page is edited.
Our artist’s work is one of beauty,
inspiring all who see.
though the critiques try to name a price on our time,
The accomplishment and the life,
Will never be measured.
We are forever.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback