Time

Time is such a nuisance

It’s always “running out”

We dream to somehow freeze it

And stop its forward route

Time is such a bother

We never have enough

Once the hands start ticking

We cannot stop the clock

Trapped in passing minutes

Numbers that confine

The tightest grip

They seem to have

These ticking hands of time

It measures up our moments

The hours come and gone

A reminder that we’re finite

While it rushes us along

Time can flow by slowly

Though we mostly seem to race it

Either way, it’s here to stay

No matter how we face it.