Past, Present, Future, Time

Crying, a gentle sobbing, a soul locking

away the grief of sudden passing, the world mocking

the stage man has set.

Laughing, a swift joy of the moment, sound spinning

through the air of brief mirth, a face grinning

at the script life has written.

Sighing, an eloquent expression, broken breathing

expels the thought of an Other, the mind seething

with memories not yet had.

Passing, an interminable ideal, an attempt at keeping

a hold of the sand from the glass, the silent one reaping

the harvest of the smitten.