The Time. (a poem)

 

The passing of time, potent as ever. Fear of its murky flowing tide ever so moving onward, not halting for I. Looking and seeking answers of unknown possibilities, haunting dreams of mine. Embrace the unknown, they mutter to mine cowardice. No coward shall fly above. Laugh, their mirth fills the air around my will. Muse as they will, tis not encouragement. Lie as they will, I am not a brave soul. The mocking bird's ire is seen from below, my fragile courage is broken once more. Off to my solitude, away from change. Something i fear, yet accept so in kind. May her scorn set my wings or heart away. Embrace me, please. Nay, please do not touch me. Not as such, never so clear, I am sorry. Hold me close to your heart, in platonic joy. I hope to be good enough for that. I am simply sorry, i cannot fly. I cannot grace the sky on my own yet. The mocking bird has not shown me how to. Please do not think of me as a lessor. I simply try to sustain my will here. Hold the faint hope with me, it's what i know.

  • Published November 28, 2019, 18:51
  • in Kiddie Pool
  • in Poetrie
  • is not continuable by others
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