deepundergroundpoetry.com

Time is...Time was...

I wish I had more time for self
to spend as I thought fit,
weeks and months and years, such wealth,
before my time's forfeit.

But, alas, duty calls
the irksome working type,
and time merely palls
this living on life's rind.

I wish I could peel away the skin
reveal the life that lies,
just beyond, almost in,
the vision of my eyes...

But in the life where I was born
time without end looms clear,
neither leisure or work or day or morn
just the endless rest, I fear.
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