Defeat: a poem

Time, passing by
like grains of sand
slipping from my hand
And this might be

the last piece of land.

So, I hold on to it tight

as I recite ,my story.

which is far from glory.

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Oh time, you are wicked!

Time is a concept so timeless, so eternal.
Yet, why sometimes I find it dull?
On some days it just speaks to me
Other, it’s just waiting to pass.
At times, I find myself wishing for ‘it’ to last,
Why does it always seems to favor the past?
But then who am I to question the endless authority of time,
for it is ‘precious’ and I am just a dime.
Time time an endless rhyme.
Its everything and nothing at the same time.
I bow to thee for it completes my rhyme in every line.
Time time an endless rhyme.

You are wicked.