Time turns on her little hands,
Left, right and otherwise.
She turns like clockwork,
More often than not, to my demise.
Still I find we are all dying,
As her hands slowly turn.
Something in all of us leaves,
And is never returned.
I don't know why I hoped,
Against the laws of time,
That something I never deserved,
Would one day be mine.
Time is still turning now,
Running faster than she ever will,
Times have come and gone,
I find I miss you still.
I felt the feelings of missing someone throughout the poem. It is so true that time has sometimes a grim face and takes persons and things away from us. Just writing this wonderful poem down, Melinda, creates something eternal, something enriching to the world. Every experience gained and every experience shared is work of creating and time adding something of value to our life too. Excellent!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Time is still turning now, Running faster than she ever will, Times have come and gone, I find I miss you still...missing. sitting and brooding over, sense of loss, i miss you.............all such emotions painted here on this canvas of poem.. lovely one. tony