Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2019
It seems that every thing was defined by time
trickling away from me.
My biological clock was ticking,
time was running out, the window was closing.
Back then, time was something I wished to avoid,
its ever rapid diminishment meant the end of opportunities,
of life.

Now, it is a different story.
Time is a wolf coming to devour me.
"When's the due date?" "How far along are you?"
They may as well ask for the date of my execution.
As time no longer creeps but now hurtles towards me.
I now cling to the bump I used to resent,
terrified of what will soon come in its place.

Will I run out of time? Will time toss me aside?
Written by
Angela McEwan
97
   Wk kortas
Please log in to view and add comments on poems