Time Goes By...

by Mikko

Published March 18, 2011

In Poetry :)

Time goes by...

My mother took me

When I was two,

To my very first day

Of a life so new.



Different to my home

Where I used to play,

My new place was

Where coloured carpets lay.


Painted and napped,

Danced and sang,

We did this all day

Until the bell rang.


Today it’s different,

We’re on our own,

Finding the value for ‘X’

Or naming a bone.


Newton made it harder,

By inventing those laws

I wish I could go back

To walking on all fours.


I often look back,

Seemed like yesterday,

I’d be on dad’s shoulders,

And watch bands play.


The hands of time

Are quickly turning,

And I see the years

Slowly burning.

Comments & reviews · 4
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cupcake
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cupcake commented Comment · Mar 20, 2011

I love it. Thinking about it, it does feel like I was a todler just yesterday. Time flys when you're having fun! Keep writing! :D

MisunderstoodDreamer commented Comment · Mar 19, 2011

This is amazing! It makes me think back to all those times. It really flowed as I read it; nothing seemed out the ordinary. Everything fit in! I think (and this is just me trying to come up with something to say about what to improve) you could add in older experiences as well. Maybe like graduation and other stuff like that. Of course, I'm not sure how old you are... You had toddler, then around middle school, and then it felt like you needed high school or something. Well, continue writing!

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crescent
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crescent commented Comment · Mar 19, 2011

xP Well spoken.

MisunderstoodDreamer wrote a review Review · Mar 19, 2011

This is amazing! It makes me think back to all those times. It really flowed as I read it; nothing seemed out the ordinary. Everything fit in! I think (and this is just me trying to come up with something to say about what to improve) you could add in older experiences as well. Maybe like graduation and other stuff like that. Of course, I'm not sure how old you are... You had toddler, then around middle school, and then it felt like you needed high school or something. Well, continue writing!



If you can't describe what you are doing as a process, you don't know what you're doing.
— W. Edwards Deming