Length Of Its Visit Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Who knew,
Only time taken...
Makes a definition of it,
Less easier to fake who does what and when.
Or how long it may take,
For those undecisive to make up their minds.

Those aging as time flys by them,
Seem to take a more notice of it drifting away.
And with an impatience shown towards those,
Wishing they knew of a remedy...
To keep themselves with time favored.
As if to flavor it with youthful flattery.
By a nipping or two to keep something tucked.
While time gives them more it to strut their stuff.

Who knew,
Only time taken...
Makes a definition of it,
Less easier to fake.
No matter how much moisterizing,
Is applied to disguise track marks on one's face.

Only time taken to make good use of it,
Seems to deliver to those doing it left...
With a comprehension of the benefits.
Without trying to erase its existence.
And acknowledging whatever it is,
They have been given to witness...
Isn't sitting around awaiting for them,
To make decisions on the length of its visit.

And who knew time could care less,
How with limits it is addressed.
To dismiss or curtail its effectiveness.
Time does come to leave when it pleases.
Regardless who accepts or denies what it is,
Whenever it blesses with its presence.