Your On My Time Poem by A . T . Perkins

Our time, measured in years
go by fast, slipping
streamlined thru the
universe - nonstop.
Once upon a time
crawling, now at a
dead sprint.
Too late to get them back.
Years moving at their own relentless pace,
playing a game with the
human psyche.
It takes one of high caliber, not
to be consumed.
I am at a crossroads,15 years ago
I was 20,
in 15 years, I'll be 50.
I couldn't wait to turn 21-time lagged.
I don't want to turn 36-time
is accelerating toward the
impending fate that, awaits us all.
Time has only its own directive
-to continue.