My Time Poem by Joseph Sakyiamah

Many watches are moving so fast,
Even though the time is great but mine is always late;
How could some people create systems to judge?
The physical and spiritual being of a person…! ! !
Are the human beings clashed or rate above and below,
The burdens burning so high in the heart of most individuals;
My time might not yet be up, but then before I melt the mental ideas they share.
Act as thou are ask to do,
The beach is full of sand, but from creation until now;
Sand is always weighted and not counted.
The hair has grown, but who amongst you knows its quantity.
Hearts beat but what sound does it beat,
So surely my time will come to pass.