Time Poem by Deborah Blackburn

Time itself is a funny thing
Its not a person, its not a being,
It slowly wizzes past through air,
One minute here, another year there,

You gaze upon those hands of time,
They move forward as they climb,
Like up a mountain or down a hill,
The pace of life it races still,

And as you listen close, its hard,
You have to lose that barrier, that guard,
You hear the hum, the purr, the start,
Of time itselfs beating heart,

You see times alive! It does not hide,
To those who listen with an open mind,
It shows its story, it knows your life,
Its seen your troubles, its seen your strife,

Yet you cannot hear its warning voice,
Times last breath has no choice,
To scream its words to you out loud,
''im trying to help'' it has to shout,

''Tick tock, tick tock'' is all u here,
For thats times cry that u should fear,
Its a warning sound for us all,
Time has an end and time will fall,

And the cogs they turn but in one direction,
Pushing us forward with only regret and reflection,
Times last song is full of power,
As its counting us down to the very last hour,

And all those moments you want to cherish, Before time stops, before times perished,
Grasp them now before the chimes,
Never let them go as the bell sounds,

And the story of time is at an end,
It is for this person, it is for this friend,
But listen closely, still you can hear,
You still have times tick tocking heart near,

And time itself is a funny thing,
Hear its warnings, Hear it sing.....