The infant's innocence in the morn
The woman's beauty at noon
The wrinkles of the aged at dusk
The changing face of time
Like an eye's blink
Days take to the skies
With mighty wings grown
In a nick of time
The future trickles
A second at a time
A minute at a time
An hour at a time
A day at a time
But will never see its warning eyes wink
From our self-professed destinies
Neither see the stock
Of our days remaining
Nor even know of where
The days lived pile up
The end comes suddenly:
Life's too brief
Time too fast
And the face keeps changing.
John M. Wanjora.
© Copyright 2017 John Wanjora. All rights reserved.
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