00:54

00:54

A Poem by SWANN

If we get to the deepest philosophical thought,

Then, time is the only thing that we’ve really got.

Sometimes counting minutes is like counting the stars,

The immense possibility we have from every second building up.

 

Ironic it is, spending time on counting minutes…

I thought while seating on an empty train back.

I breathe the air of cynics,

I am the time, that’s why I’m never enough.

 

Good-looking features, broken childhood.

What a perfect combination to live in the mute.

The perfect recipe to feel the disastrous time

For all broken people, who are waiting for their time to expire.

 

While on the train back, I made a straight connection, that time is our death.

Time is our future, our hope, our happiness, and our faith.

Time takes our loved ones, and time let’s our children be born.

Time is a taker, a giver, a killer, and a womb….

 

But most of all, time is the only thing that we’ve really got.

 

L

© 2015 SWANN


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Thank you for putting this into words. I've tried but it never quite made sense.

Posted 8 Years Ago


SWANN

8 Years Ago

Glad you enjoyed!

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Added on October 25, 2015
Last Updated on October 25, 2015
Tags: train, thinking, time, love, pain, waste, philosophical

Author

SWANN
SWANN

London, United Kingdom



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