Time Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Time, time, time.
Time marches and continues forward.
We work, we laugh, and we play.
The seconds, minutes, and hours
All fall into a bucket at the end
Of a lop-sided shelf.
I reach into the bucket
And give you every second,
Every minute, every hour that I can.
I still work, I still play, I still laugh.
In time, all things heal.
In time everything reaches a point.
Time, time, time.
No matter how weary the feet,
No matter the hills and mountains
That it climbs.
New beginnings are made.
Things that were new
eventually become old.
Of all the times I've reached into
This bucket filled with seconds,
Minutes, and hours.
Not once have you done
the same for me