Small Part
Tick, tick, tick the clock will turn
With rapid pace a day might churn
Fears arise as moments wasting
Futures pass a present’s tasting
Life can flash before the eye
Blink, look quick, the scene is nigh
Wrap ourselves in frenzied worry
Focus dims to panicked hurry
Seek perfection; think us clever
World spins on its own endeavor
Still we feed the constant riddles
Just a spoke of larger middles
Try and try to find our niche
Exertions strain a tightening stitch
Tell ourselves, “Just ride the currents”
Stubborn wills are strong deterrents
Words provide no magic potion
Minor drops, and life’s an ocean
Copyright SGW 2007
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Poem: Small Part
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