Saturday, February 17, 2007

The Asperity of Time

I wait in silence,
For time passing by,
As one would wait for a fond acquaintance.

I wait for him
To speak of his worth
And to watch his eyes grow dim.

I watch him saddle
His antique aspersions;
No jumbled words for him to addle.

Time passes by,
As one passes a stranger,
Condemning yet another useless moment to die.

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