A Part of Lifes Journey
A part of life’s journey ???
The hours begin to claw at me.
Time slips away, filled not, I see.
To much time on my hands.
In beams, in waves, in bands.
Empty spaces, invisible air.
These games of solitaire.
This game that is now my life.
No girlfriend, no lover, no wife.
Tides ebb, tides flow.
Time ebbs, times go.
Memories remain.
Keeping us sane.
On the turn of a card, life rides.
Behind a mask true life hides.
What is the time and space ?
That has created one’s face.
These masks that some prefer to ware.
Fashioned from scares beyond compare.
Staring back at us from near and far
Hiding !, just what and who they are.
Once again, I seem to be caught up in.
This game of solitaire – my life- such sin.
Cutting through the hours of my life.
Like a dull, old, rusty knife.
Severing all ties with reality.
Creating a world of fantasy.
These words have been written.
Time - the soul they have smitten
B. J. “A” 2
December 1st 2014
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2014
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