Poetry is a language Of powerful thoughts and imagery, it can strike in the heart of man, it can shape lives and actions. Then can it not be used to enhance to the finder qualities of man? Rather than providing shallow enjoyment? And promoting the baser instincts? If I was a poet, I would like my words To compell the soul, To pursue the true pupose of existence. Oh, what wouldn’t I give to go on collecting my reward, Beyond this life....

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Time

01-12-04

Time is of the essence,
Time is transitory,
Time will come to cease,
Time is momentary.

Yet many waste it,
Behind the trivial pursuits of life.
Some reach great heights of fame,
And engrave their name in history.
Some usurp the earth,
And terrorise its inhabitants.
They too cannot outlive,
The promise of time.
Death will be tasted by all.

What have you done,
To live your imprint upon,
This marvellous design?

The future passes into present,
The present soon becomes past,
Yesterday is gone,
Today is the time to get things done.

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