MY TIME
Time moves slowly, very slowly...
S l o w l y I chase it
I crawl with it
The days are l o n g so very l o n g
Minutes become hours
six hundred minutes per hour
Time does not fly
My time goes afoot.
October 14, 1998
MYJA
MY TIME
Time moves slowly, very slowly...
S l o w l y I chase it
I crawl with it
The days are l o n g so very l o n g
Minutes become hours
six hundred minutes per hour
Time does not fly
My time goes afoot.
October 14, 1998
MYJA
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
THE SEASONS OF THE HEART/ The Play | 0 | 11/09/2009 |
MY TIME | 0 | 11/09/2009 |
A Mother's Advice to her Daughter | 0 | 11/09/2009 |
TIME | 0 | 10/08/2009 |
MY BROKEN DREAM | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
PRACTICALITY | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Through my Rose Color Glasses | 0 | 09/09/2009 |
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