Time

Arms move by as fingers scrape the fabric binding space

I feel the very seconds brush against my sides

Launching by like frenzied hunting sharks 

Never ending summer nights reduced to memory

Each passing day chips away the pillars

Standing tall for days of youth

Harvested hours fuel flames of ambition

Stacks of literature invade the cobwebbed attic

Unknown silhouettes replace casted actors

Running out of time

For her

For me

For family

M.H. Bones

Author's Note

Some days I can even feel a physical sensation of time passing by. I may add more to this poem in the future. I feel it can be expanded upon.