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LC Apr 2022
seconds are drops of water in a river.
everyone starts at the top,
and according to many,
we can only coast with the waves,
following their path until the end,
and the river cannot be moved -
no matter what happens.
but how can the river stay on course
when torrential, destructive hurricanes
dislodge debris and soil from the ground?
when the path is blocked,
the river has to pave its own way.
Escapril Day 6! Prompt: time (nonlinear).
I hope you enjoy this poem! What does it mean to you?
Raven Feels Sep 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, a happy is a happy?

a second at a second
eyes knew something of a golden weapon
a minute at a minute
a sunrise's glitch before you know it
an hour at an hour
dinner a feast desert sour
a day at a day
one sunny one rainy all different says
a week at a week
Mondays lazy Fridays a smiley cheak
a month at a month
nothing permanent each a season at once
a year at a year
every beginning to the ending you near
a glance at a glance
still dont know the hallways of a billion stance

Jme Love Jul 2021
It seems so wasted
Spent sad angry isolated
Lost never to be found again
Gone spent regretting
Empty no memories made
Only wishing we could go back to the first seconds of that day
How much time we spend regretting things we wasted time on
Zack Ripley Mar 2021
The seconds, minutes, hours pass by.
And yet, after all this time,
I can't help but sit back and wonder...
and the days are getting shorter.
Hours into minutes into seconds,
squished together like nesting dolls
until they are lost to infinity. You don't

know the value of sleep yet,
so read your dog-eared paperbacks
by the muted glow of your flashlight,
hidden under your blankets like a

prodigal son. Keep your heavy eyes open
because the pictures in your books
will silently climb out of their pages
while you're asleep, escaping through your

bedroom window. Your bones are getting longer
and your book bag is getting heavier.
So spend your precious seconds wisely,
because as the years change, those seconds will get shorter.
for Mr. Jeffrey Bean, who reminded me what it means to be a kid
Zack Ripley Sep 2020
Just because the world changes
Every day, hour, minute, and second,
Doesn't mean you have to.
But, then again,
Maybe that's exactly why you should.
Amanda Hawk Aug 2020
Tears are a signature
Our mouths
Can’t quite sign
For goodbye lingers
In the corner of our eyes
Stumbling down our cheeks
Hands shake for words
To create in an embrace
That will swallow us whole
And for a moment
Feel full, overflowing
For seconds are fleeting
When goodbye has a home
Upon your tongue
Amanda Hawk Aug 2020
Minutes, short puffs

hours fade away

and in the mist

I spell your name

you are fleeting

a ghost waltzing

through my hours

I grab at seconds

small beads slipping

between my fingers

I become my own hourglass

holding on to your shadow

and gliding back and forth

within nostalgia
angelique Jul 2020
when time slips through your fingers,
you realise just how precious it is


as soon as a second steers
itself into manifold past
the mind is
spurred by intuition
to reflect pure
imagination or contradiction,
to accept or to deny;
'tis all up to you

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