Treasure Island

Adam M. Snow

(5/30/1988 / Phoenix, AZ)

Carpe Diem


Tick tock, how time does fly,
slipping through my fingers;
wasting my days till I die.

The morning tides, a blessing;
I should seize the day.
Another day leaving me guessing,
if time itself would stray.

Yet my hours foretold of that of bore;
I lose myself within.
Many times of yore.
Many times of then.

So I gaze upon the clock;
the hands slowly pass,
slower with the hours flock.

I without a cause;
I feel lost with time
For me, time does not pause-
when I long for sublime.

I admit I am weak,
I am only a man;
whom were as bleak,
whom without a plan.

Lost in life and in time,
without a reason for a reason;
the only truest crime.

The echo of the ticking clock-
cries out, mocking me;
grasping time by the stock,
yet still I refuse to see.

Confusion reigns over me,
I know not my desire;
whether to die or to see,
whether time cast out my fire.

My fire, the urge to live on,
through the days of down;
the hours marks my dawn.

I am blessed with a gift of a new day;
it should not go to waste.
Being as it may,
I shouldn't have haste.

I've taken life for granted,
it is just that;
this life I lived is canted,
like time itself begat.

Life is fragile, I shall not stray;
time is only a memory;
I should seized the day.

Submitted: Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 24, 2013

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