Just About Time Poem by David Whalen

Just About Time



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Just exactly what is time…
To me I guess
Tis no more or less
An invention of one’s mind

Can one really stay
Or store time away
Save it up
For another day

Can one measure what
Does not exist
No! …No more than store
The morning mist

Are you wasteful when
You let time fly by
And once it’s spent
What did it buy

It has no substance
Less even than a ghost
Yet once it’s gone
Your days are done

And my friend
You’ve become
…toast…
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Thursday, December 3, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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David Whalen

David Whalen

Covington Kentucky
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