Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2014
Unable to stop it,
Unable to catch it,
Nobody has gone back in it,
And nobody has bent it.

It just keeps moving,
Things keep changing,
And nothing makes sense.

So why do thing live,
When it takes your life away?

Why do people care,
What time it is during the day?

When we live for such a short time,
On this Earth we call home.
Matthew Miklavcic
Written by
Matthew Miklavcic  CIncinnati, Ohio
(CIncinnati, Ohio)   
233
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems