Memory
Time is a funny thing:
Slow when you are waiting,
Fast when pleasure funds fling.
So many years have gone:
Those unremembered morns,
Those forgotten kind dawns.
Time is a crude hollow:
Why predict tomorrow?
Glimpse how sad makes mellow.
So many journey quests:
Trace the taste of odd fest,
Prize wonder that firms jest.
Time is a dying craze:
Falling into the blaze,
Empty with curious daze.
Leon Enriquez
15 November 2017
Singapore
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2017
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