Wasted Time
The young foolishly dream of old age.
Time wasted on futile pursuits,
an illusion of freedoms,
vitality fleeting.
Pages torn like flesh
are ever gone.
Precious time
turns to
dust.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
10/2/13
for Dr.Ram Mehta's Nonet Form Contest
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2013
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