With Time To Kill

Time isn’t kind

Not to me, not to you,

Not to a single living, breathing soul

As I stand here,

Staring into the bathroom mirror,

I count 20 maybe 30 new grey hairs to my beard

I can’t bring myself to count those,

On top of my aching head

Time has done this

Stress has done this

All the bad things in this world have done this

Somewhere, in this world,

A small toaster just caught fire,

In a room with no one present

Somewhere, in a lonely back alley,

A baby is set in a dumpster

But in the end,

Time will fix all of it

It will right the wrong,

Kill the strongest,

And mercifully smother the weak

Time will play tricks,

Beguiling even the smartest of us all

It slips away

In the end, it all slips away

Then you’re left holding prayer cards,

Of loved one’s gone,

Dreams carried for years,

But won’t ever be realized

Time is a real piece of work

A real ‘fuck ya in the back’,

Kind of guy

Time is a whore,

Charging too much,

Giving too little,

And stealing your wallet,

While you wash your hands

A real piece of work

A seven layered loser

Time is a shitstorm we are all walking through,

At one time or another

So smile wide,

But keep your head low

So, I guess it’s time to wrap this up,

Time to get going,

And I’d best make good time

After Time has a chance to read this,

I seriously doubt,

It will be on my side

© Dicky J Loweman 2015