Time..

Too careless,
So little left to use...
Water... How it runs through hands of young fools…
Was immature; now I croon their same tune; as elders before whom…
Saw the first signs. … Gray strands multiply on my mind...
Sigh when I reminisce, the back when; in my prime…
Misery’s arrive invites a misty eye… Where a cry hangs…
I contemplate recycling used hourglass grains..
To change a few things...address a few shames...
So much regret, in what I reflect…
Can I break a few panes?
Can’t blot yesterday…So afraid of what it shapes …
Heard through the grapes, the roads you trace get paved by the karma you make...
How much good have you banked? Words ricochet off walls and children the same…
I was once that way. Now wise in my twilights shade…
No need to meditate...the notepad medicates; no needled veins…
Wish I’d listened before pastures became lifeless plains…
My palms are abrasive; My face decayed… I don’t eat the same…my blood’s ancient…
Recycled a million times, I gave a name to each platelet.
Each omission and mistake documented amongst the pages…
in print instantaneous …What happens when patience becomes impatient?
Me I don’t blame it. Am I less alive? Am I someone else’s guide; A lesson to the next in line?
That’d make me an indirect blessing in disguise; Right?