Time, a human invention if ever there was one,
Though tiss laid blame or credit at the foot of a Supreme Being.
Time a vessel in which to pour our lives,
Time is a skin a measuring stick.
A something to pit one moment against another.
Time is one man's perception of motion,
against one woman's perception of reality.
Time is a tool yet is used as a cage.
How lost would we be if all the clocks ticks ran away with the tocks,
If they pulled down the shutters and headed for the docks.
Time does not heal pain but pain respects time as a coping strategy.
If we all did today what we did yesterday only better,
We would have moved in time but backwards.
Time can't measure the kiss or be home to the beat of a lover's heart.
The hour hand bent over and lifted me up to a high place and said.
"Wrap yourself in yesterday plan for tomorrow but live for today".
"I can see," said I, today is now and here, and I am alive.
This here this you this is us, this second is now so now is forever,
and as for the tomorrow well, tiss said that tomorrow never comes
Copyright © mark fullick