- Non-Erotic Poetry
- 3:00 am
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Hello, old friend. We meet again, the only stable force in my turbulent world.
I seek connection, I seek real…why does it elude me?
I have opened so many doors, too many?
Some must close before the monsters in the closet can escape.
Some stay open, airing out, space for new adventures? Time will tell.
Time
Time
That twisted matron…she is but illusion of possibilities, keeper of memories, and warped sense of now.
Time
Too little
Too much
Too long
Too short
Time
Fleeting … catch it, stop it, revisit it, forget it
Time is of the essence.
The time is now.
Time after time…
Sometimes you picture me…wait, do you? I do.
Was it real? Or was it Memorex?
Do you get that reference?
Too old (for you)
Too young (for who)
Time…keeps marching on…
And soon you’ll find it marching across your face.
That face…that launched a thousand ships.
Ugh…time, robber of youth.
Youth, wasted on the young …or is it?
So much to learn, so much to see…
Have I seen enough?
Shall I close all the doors, say one?
Oh look…it’s still 3:00am…
But a blink, a flash.
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