'' The Ravages Of Time '' Poem by Bri Mar

This thing called living,
Gets harder each day,
It can be so unforgiving,
Keeping time at bay.

But that's what we do,
For we have no choice,
Be it me or you,
It doesn't hear voice.

It brings on a frown,
Puts us in a rage,
As it drags us down,
How long will we age?

Some are taken too soon,
Without living a life,
No time to attune,
To the meaning of strife.

Other's live for years,
Long life they savour,
For some it is tears,
Life's a bitter flavour.

As hard as we try,
To enjoy every second,
One day we'll die,
Some others pray, beckoned.

To where no-one knows,
But we do live in hope,
Though God never shows,
Somehow, we cope.

Life is a treasure,
In the main it's sublime,
but what kills the pleasure,
Are,

‘' The Ravages Of Time ‘'