Borrowed Time Poem by Walter C. Edwards
Borrowed Time
How does it feel,
to be living on borrowed time,
hearing wind chimes in your ears,
lonely quit tears,
and fears of what will be,
the days pass,
but you know you will not last,
the puzzle pieces start to come,
undone until the last one,
falls away from your grip,
last breath, then goodbye,
the clock has stopped,
no more, a tick tock.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
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4/19/2024 10:55:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
