Under Time's Thumb Poem by ally jones

The labels we have today,
wont be there tomorrow.
Asleep in coffins we'll be,
released from pain and sorrow.

What he said last month
and what she did wednesday,
Was a horrible sight,
to see on the runway.

Our dreams of yesterday,
wont exist next year.
The happiness never lasts
there's always a new fear.

The fads of today,
didn't come from last week.
We were young once then,
too little to speak.

The emotions you felt five minutes ago,
and the actions I took an hour later
reflect upon last month
and the way you made me hate her.

The death on Monday past,
and the life on thursday to come.
Time is just a wicked dream
that has you under it's thumb.