Poetry

The Time That Passed By

Time is the most valuable resource in existence, yet we waste it on a regular basis, always complaining about not having enough of it. As humans, we spend so much of our time pursuing material things. This poem is about how fickle we are in always going after a certain goal and as soon as we achieve it, another one takes its place. It’s a cycle that continues until our time eventually runs out.

Lives spent waiting for the next moment

never appreciating

time

as it slips through your fingers

The river of thoughts floating

around the bend,

our minds fixated

on the upcoming end.

 

We look for the next big step

as soon as it’s achieved, move on

not a thought or moment kept

to appreciate the goal we won.

 

When do we stop? When does it end?

is there always something new?

A shiny new cliff to climb over

Obstacles to overcome, no care for why or who

 

Such fickle creatures we are

always raising the bar,

speeding through time

taking moments to shine

eyes fixed to the unreachable stars.

 

Then we reach the end

lamenting the time that has passed by,

all of it taken for granted,

the daylight has vanished

and it all stops in a blink of an eye.

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