The Cruelty of Time

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is a little poem I wrote about a wandering woman who denied the touch of time. She would lay in fields of flowers to ponder the world, unconcerned about the passage of time. But all at once
she realizes that she is an old woman, and the once-lush and beautiful fields were withered and dying, just like her.

Submitted: June 07, 2018

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Submitted: June 07, 2018



I used to lay in fields of flowers

For innumerable passing hours.

It seemed that time’s grip had loosened,

That I was free for musings,

To sit and ponder, wonder,

In timeless drifting moments.


‘Twas a shame for me to realize

That time had always kept me

On a short leash,

And had never truly let me

Out of its sight.

I couldn’t really stay and breathe

Or watch the clouds pass by.


For I looked down at my hands one day,

To see in true surprise

That wrinkles had developed

And dexterity turned stiff.

The petals around where I lay

Were old and withering away.


And all at once I looked about me

Where once grew lush and green

Everything was brown and dying,

Just like me.

Yes, what a frightening thing to see,

And I began to cry,

Because I finally saw

That time had passed me by.

© Copyright 2019 Sarah Day. All rights reserved.

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