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
No comments:
Post a Comment