Time of my year

Time is an illusion,

but day after day, year after year the illusion continues.

Nobody understands how exactly time works.

When am I where and how will I get there?

Time is rushed and time is savored.

Time is lost and time is gained.

But in the end time always stops.

 

These years of hurrying and scurrying have to end.

For backwards we cannot bend to please others.

Our time is our own and not our mothers.

We must realize that years go by too fast to let someone else control us.

Why let someone else tell you every second what to do?

Do what you want with your illusion of time;

I'll do what I want with mine.

And when all time ends, we'll see who got the most out of their illusion.

 

In a year all this I have learned.

So do not let this float through your mind as a stranger passing by.

Savor your time and be yourself;

That's all I ask you to do.

Please, do not hurry and scurry.

Just love and cherish your time, for it will end with love or crime.

This poem is about: 
Me

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