Always Time
Are we what time is made of,
or do we just pass
thru the
hours?
If the parts of what we know
come to us, life we
understand, is
ours.
We may not hold the answer,
we are never sure time
sticks to our
skin,
From birth to death is a space
fat with thoughts, or with
ideas ever
thin?
Yorktown Disciple
Are we what time is made of,
or do we just pass
thru the
hours?
If the parts of what we know
come to us, life we
understand, is
ours.
We may not hold the answer,
we are never sure time
sticks to our
skin,
From birth to death is a space
fat with thoughts, or with
ideas ever
thin?
Yorktown Disciple
Order # 11603
Quatrain of Always Time - 11603 - Yorktown Disciple
Yorktown Disciple
Poetizing around the world
Poetizing around the world
We
may
not
hold
the
answers
may
not
hold
the
answers
Poem Sanctum
©Yorktown Disciple
All rioghts reserved
All rioghts reserved
