Poetry for the Soul #2

Just Time. 

You told me to write, so I’m writing for you

But it seems I haven’t felt your words

For centuries; it seems you haven’t thrown them at me

In years. It seems we have not been the same

In months; it seems we’re wearing thinner

By the day. It seems we are running down to our

Last hour.

Minute by minute; the last few seconds,

They might save us, but

They will destroy us for trying.

You told me to write, so I’m writing for you

Every second.

Each minute, by the hour.

Everyday for the years to pass.

Until a century has wounded

Our long lasting efforts. 

You told me to write, so I’m writing for you

But where are you

When the centuries are in the books

The years are in the photographs

The days are passing slowly

The hours are slurring, and the seconds are the minutes

And the minutes feel like a century.

You told me to write, so I’m writing for you

But now you’re gone

And everything is just time.