The Passing of Time

December 11, 2008
By Angela Collins BRONZE, Kenner, Louisiana
Angela Collins BRONZE, Kenner, Louisiana
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Tick.
Time flies, they say;
But time never leaves.
Tock.
Wishing for tomorrow,
Yearning for yesterday:
You choose to let your life flutter away.
Tick.
Every minute, every second is passing;
Morning soon turns into night.
Tock.
The leaves are changing
From vibrant green to burnt orange,
But you don’t notice.
Tick
Look around; the leaves are dancing from the trees
Hoping you will observe their show of glee.
Tock.
On your nose lands a light, white snowflake,
Softly whispering a reminder of your time here.
You brush it off.
Tick
The leaves have drifted away; the snow has melted.
You look around, wondering where time has gone.
Tock.


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