A Teardrop On The Face Of Time Poem by Edwina Reizer

Time, never ending, everlasting
takes its toll on all.
And as each moment passes
a teardropp starts to fall.
History passes and plays its part.
How did it end?
How did it start?
With people
laughing, crying
living, dying
and then repeating again.
With people
never learning
always yearning
to become free men.

But a teardropp on the face of time
stains the face it's on.
And never does it really dry
for it's never really gone.