Time is running out.
Out of what?
Out of me.
It starts too slow.
And before you know
It's running too quick
so nothing sticks.
Slipping away
through my fingers.
I take pictures
to hold time still.
So when I sit
I can look and see
what passed me by
today.
This was written for the Sleep Is For The Weak Writing Workshop from the prompt Time.
Join in or stop a while to read the other contributions.
This is a lovely piece of writing :) xx
ReplyDeleteVery lovely poem. I think this prompt speaks to many of us who are woman juggling busy lives.
ReplyDeleteMollyxxx
Lovely poem. x
ReplyDeleteI interpreted this weeks prompt as a poem too. But I like yours SO much better. Nicely done my dear :D
ReplyDelete