Time Poem by Shelby Benedetti
Time
Time,
Running slowly.
So expendable,
Yet so precious,
And irrefundable.
Spending this time
With loved ones,
Some say a waste,
Others, a priveledge.
But what if the clocks stop?
What then?
Will we run awry,
Unorganized and wild?
Time is what keeps us sane.
Being human,
Daily routines,
Appointments.
But what if time runs out?
What then?
I forsee humans,
But no humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 10:59:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice one, I like it, thank you for sharing.