Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Time has no wings But it flies faster than bald eagles and fast jets Time has no rings But it is engaged or bound to ‘no safety nets’ And married with death. We are all migrants in the depth Of the valleys. We are passing by Like the wind. No matter how hard we try We will have to go Like an unwanted cargo. Time is nobody’s enemy Be smart to lend a hand To a stranger, for no real friend Exists in this messy quagmire Where everything is strange and dire. We really own nothing We are all living on borrowed time We shall pay for the crime Remember that we own nothing Yet we keep on fantasizing and dreaming. Time, which is not an enemy Owns everything under the sun And everything under the blue moon FYI: Nobody has returned from Heaven Not even the wisest angel of the deep blue Sea. Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
0
Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 11:51 PM UTC
Time Is Not The Enemy
Time has no wings But it flies faster than bald eagles and fast jets Time has no rings But it is engaged or bound to ‘no safety nets’ And married with death. We are all migrants in the depth Of the valleys. We are passing by Like the wind. No matter how hard we try We will have to go Like an unwanted cargo. Time is nobody’s enemy Be smart to lend a hand To a stranger, for no real friend Exists in this messy quagmire Where everything is strange and dire. We really own nothing We are all living on borrowed time We shall pay for the crime Remember that we own nothing Yet we keep on fantasizing and dreaming. Time, which is not an enemy Owns everything under the sun And everything under the blue moon FYI: Nobody has returned from Heaven Not even the wisest angel of the deep blue Sea. Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Written by
Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 11:51 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem