Cory Ruda

(7/31/91)

The Creeper


Time moves slowly,
Creeping soundly,
Crawling o’er the ages coldly,
All our hopes and all our dreams,
Want it changed so badly.

E’en so, young minds want it gone,
Begging school be over
And Summer's grace to flourish;
Then, short time later,
Children mourn school's vengeful return.

Lovers consumed, with spangled eyes,
Cast gazes to their heart-masters.
Then, for a night in each other's embrace,
Forever is whispered.

When years have passed and age creeps on,
The elders, old and sickly,
Want time to change and youth to return;
Life to be continued....

For all their hopes and all their dreams,
Attempts are left futile,
Time will wax, time will flow,
And free will is but its plaything;

But every so often, if ever it can be,
Hope bears fruit:
A life of happiness and joy,
When Time's sweet mercy prevails.

Submitted: Friday, November 02, 2007
Edited: Thursday, April 21, 2011

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