every clock is spinning fast
the time machine moves on
seasons race from spring to fall
another year has gone
and I was born in bygone times
to die some future day
an instant's breath is all I own
but moments never stay
in youth the days and seasons lag
with every day the same
until my life is almost done
for credit or for blame
all I can do is fight for life
the time machine must stop
to find me buried with regret
or on the mountaintop
Another good poem Barry. You might want to read my poem Unless time is an Illusion if you haven't.
Nice poem about the passing of times. You have got a catchy title, I once thought you going to talk about the watch, since you mentioned MACHINE. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for the comment. The term Time Machine refers to the novel by British writer H.G. Wells which has been made into a movie twice in America.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a beautiful write here Barry...its like a snip bits of life...written beautifully.... Annette
Thanks again. Glad you liked it................