Time, friend or foe
I ask myself
In solitude, so maddening
In love, so fleeting
Waiting, a double edged sword
I tell myself
Hopeful to see the light
Petrified to realize the truth
A prisoner in time
I resign myself
When? I cautiously asked
Soon? No one knows
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Patience is a virtue that I am short on. We are all prisoners of time. It never seems to be right - either too much or too little. We run in circles like rats in a maze - bumping our heads into the wall until we decide to go another direction. Couldn't there be an easier way? Good write. Linda