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Potulní básníci: Carrie (CAN) – Time

Time


Does not exist in the present,
yet takes up space in my mind.
And I find,
that the ticking hands,
moves the man,
faster than force of any kind.
Modern sociaty dictates,
humans to be tuned in to the chase.
This type of lifestyle I call a rat race.
Living with mistakes we can not erase.
Because a clock we can not rewind.
If you can not be anythíng,
atleast be kind.
One is never certain in the impact they leave behind.
But if we have the time,
why not aid one another?
A helping hand to a stranger,
is help to a brother
But we‘re so busy, busy, busy.
And absorbed with our life.
It‘s hard to find a time,
when you have three children and a wife.
Then one day you‘re seventy three,
an age that seems foreign to me,
thinking back on the years,
when you had your youth and no fears,
on why you wasted your time,
being trivial and blind.
Letting the present slip by.
Soon you‘re on your death bed,
wishing away the conversations you haven‘t said,
yearning for the things you should‘ve done,
and the people you‘ve never met.
And in that moment,
time begins to make sense.
It was never there in the first place,
never ours to repent.
It never existed to begin,
a label for what we felt within.
An internal clock counting our virtues and sins.
So much effort placed,
in unhappy habbits we waste,
working towards our future.
And when we get there we find,
that all of the experiences for which we‘ve paid,
and all of the money we‘ve made,
can not buy back our time.

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