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Literature Text
Our world is nothing more
than what is, will be, or has come before.
All of our ambitious plans
are held in Time's indifferent hands.
Painful memories and happy thoughts
repeated through the spinning clock.
Nothing has ever truly begun
for there is nothing new under the sun.
than what is, will be, or has come before.
All of our ambitious plans
are held in Time's indifferent hands.
Painful memories and happy thoughts
repeated through the spinning clock.
Nothing has ever truly begun
for there is nothing new under the sun.
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A poem about time.
© 2012 - 2024 threwthedoor
Comments2
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A very powerful and meaningful message. I love the rhythm and power in this poem. Wonderful spacing and good use of metaphors. It has lots of depth. Nice work/.