Time
There is a time for everything we are told,
a time to enjoy, work and then grow old.
As a season comes and goes,
time moves through our lives as quickly as a wind that blows.
For every day that we are given,
there is a time for things that must be striven.
For work that must be done,
there is little time for things that are fun.
Time can be a friend indeed,
but only when we seek someone in need.
Our time on earth is to be spent,
doing things that are meant.
When our time is finally at an end,
then it will be determined how much we have sinned.
The time in this life that we have spent,
will determine where it is we are to be sent.
Copyright © Richard Moriarty | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment