Time - Poem by Orlando Belo
When I was a child, time waiting,
was a cruel, deceptive, illusion.
A fifteen minute, wait seemed like an hour.
Now in old age, I have reached a conclusion.
A child's view of time is very much overvalued.
As one grows older, that value decreases.
At middle age it levels out,
and no longer deceives us.
However, time values do change again,
from middle, through to old age.
A reversal of value then slowly takes place,
and time depreciates, I'm afraid.
And why does the value of time change?
A child has an instinctive inclination,
to be physically active, and if that is stemmed,
time waiting, bores them to frustration.
As an adult ages they becomes less physical,
they don't need to run around and play.
Senior citizens often get lost in their thoughts,
then without realizing time slips away.
Comments about Time by Orlando Belo
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.