Time

It's precious
and fleeting
far too often
self defeating
patience is wasted
impulse regretted
and far too often
nothing netted
grief and desire
both thoughtless
yet painfully
necessary
hopes and dreams
neither shattered
nor achieved
existing not living
or is existing really
living after all....
breathing, feeling
yet somehow never
seeing nor tasting
nor relishing
just some
shameful embellishing
time.....
what's it really for?
a tool to torture souls
a toy
for twisted spirits
time....

what does it really mean
or does it matter in the
end.