Time is an illusion, still the clock ticks on each day The more of it we have, the more it slips away The more we chase it down, the more it runs ahead The more we grasp it tight, the more it drifts away instead Time is a deception, a construct in our heads Still we pull its tapestry, grasp upon its threads Still we weave our lives, entwined within its whims Still we fret and wonder, when is the time to begin? Time is a commodity, time is bought and sold Time is given to the young, taken from the old Time is scarce, time is hard, time can be unkind Time is fading, time is wasting, time is in decline The time is now and no time else, for time lives in our minds Let’s take our time, make our time, leave the hands of time behind Poet Bob sang true, in flaying tones, the time’s they are a-changing Let’s slow it down, come back to now, the reign of time is waning.
Time is something I’m struggling with at the moment. There never seems to be enough of it, and yet if I’m able to take a step back and slow my mind down, I often find I have all the time in the world.
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