Ticking ByA Poem by kannerjayRead the poem.
it flies likes a bird.
it only goes forward. it can be wasted or saved, in it futures are paved. it can go slow, it go can fast. it can drag by, it can blast past. its easy to say, easy to see. a job with no pay, comes completely free. old yet new, new but old. it cannot say boo, it cannot catch a cold. so comes to end, this rhythm with rhyme. look out, world, my name is time. © 2011 kannerjayAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on August 30, 2011 Last Updated on September 11, 2011 Tags: poem, time, unchanging, kanner, jay Author
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