I wrote this poem, like many to be inspirational with a hint of yearning for gusto.
Be quiet, listen. Do you hear it? I do. The phantom pain of clocks The hands of a sneak, collapsing Second by minute by hour Cutting my life shorter, Making withdrawals from my life, Tick/tock, tick/tock, Soon to be forgotten, No I will not, Because timing is everything, And this is one of those times. A time when I cannot be timid, Today is one of the precious few All today's have to be accepted, Exchanging what could be For what has to be, life My life, my destiny yearns Growing strong for that brevity While I breathe, I possess, I am.
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