Time Poem by Kian Sheik

Mine olde friend tyme hath given me a key
It hath spoken of luck. It hath spoken to me
It rattles on of mine furious admiration. It
sings of hope and a week desperation
till waiting is filled I cannot open the lock
when my tyme hath come, I bid deathe may knock

Midlife time has sent me an answer
It speaks of chance. It spins like a dancer
It tells me all of my jealous rage. How there
is still hope, but even time has an age
I must keep searching for the question
In which this answer will make an impression

A newborn time gave me the truth
A probable innocence comes only with youth
How envy speaks with a forkéd tongue. It prays
on all, both old and young.
This answer is here, plain to read
If you too find the question, I warn you indeed.