Make It StopA Poem by PeteTime is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. - ThoreauIvan Albright - Fleeting Time, Thou Hast Left Me Old (1945) The days come at me so quickly. Like the calendared bullets of a machine gun. I hang slumber in my closet. Only to rise and dress a new dawn again. Where does time go? Nowhere. It's always in my face. Hunting. Confronting. Firing the starting pistol of a wrinkled race. Striking at me with its unheralded karate chop. Someone. Please. Make it stop ... © 2020 PeteAuthor's Note
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Added on March 12, 2020 Last Updated on March 12, 2020 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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