PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Time


Time,
Who shall I blame mine on?
This thing so intricate,
Endlessly flowing throughout the world around us.
It does not turn back for anyone.
What is it about this force that gets us everyday?
To unto whom shall I document my legacy on this thing.
This force, this object, this phenomenon we base our lives off of.
This cage we imprison ourselves in, Why? For what purpose?
This thing can only bring sorrow when its our turn to face
This thing we call time.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

JPB

I write to cope with the pains of everyday life, so that I may help anyone that I can.

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.