Time

by dafreak

Published March 29, 2012

In poetry


you are the bandit that travles both day and night
you fear not of being known, for no1 can stop you.
oh how i abused you when you were once a friend
now it seems your existance is for my missery.

i abused you by neglecting your importance,
playing mindlessly as you went by
you snuck into my tresures and tainted them with age
now i can never get what i had back.

w/o you there would be no me.
w/o me there would still be you.
if i am not so important to you then why do you haunt me so.
rather then wait for me. you go ahead of me, and destroy

my friends are gone, my family has passed
my kids have grown my job is no more.
my life. my dream. melted away into a sea of forgetfulness
oh why do you still haunt me dear time. why.

Comments & reviews · 1
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lyssiekins
Review
lyssiekins wrote a review Review · Jun 1, 2013

Hi its me Lyss to do some more spell check for you since I enjoyed your other poem so much :)

you are the bandit that travles both day and night - You, travels
you fear not of being known, for no1 can stop you. - no one
oh how i abused you when you were once a friend - Oh, I ,
now it seems your existance is for my missery. - existence, misery

i abused you by neglecting your importance, - I
playing mindlessly as you went by
you snuck into my tresures and tainted them with age - snuck isn't the proper word, try lurked or skulked.
now i can never get what i had back.

w/o you there would be no me. - without
w/o me there would still be you.
if i am not so important to you then why do you haunt me so.- If, I
rather then wait for me. you go ahead of me, and destroy - no full stop after me,

my friends are gone, my family has passed - My
my kids have grown my job is no more. -comma after grown
my life. my dream. melted away into a sea of forgetfulness -My life. My dream. Melted
oh why do you still haunt me dear time. why. Time? Why?

Beautiful poem! WOW. I love this. Snuck into my treasures and tainted them with age. Perfect personification of time. I am in total awe of the mystery and beauty surrounding your writing! Don't stop.



Don't go around saying the world owes you a living; the world owes you nothing; it was here first.
— Mark Twain