Time is of the essence,
Every tick of the clock measures your accomplishments.
It's not clear what you will yet become,
Your destine for greatness.
With hopes and admirations looming,
A cloud of misfortune and disbelief appear.
Over the horizon,
As the clock loudly strikes twelve,
Dreams and visions of greatness,
Peak through the darkness.
Time fades behind the clouds,
Copyright © norman geary | Year Posted 2007
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