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"A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures." The Picture of Dorian Gray

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

day fifty-nine: time.

please,
don't go
wait,
we had plans!
why are you running
so quickly away?
why are you slipping
right through tightly clasped fingers?

because that
is your "job"
always moving
always changing things
forcing people
to make sacrifices...
well, what about
me?
i've sacrificed
but not enough,
i'll admit,
i miss you.
i miss having so much of you.
and so little of you.
so i'll stop wasting you:
i'll make a list
right now
and you'll make all those dreams come true.

thanks, Time, for not waiting on me
but making me run to catch up
to you.

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