Hi, all. I’m fairly new to Ribblr, and I just discovered this space. I write a lot of stories, and occasionaly I also write poems. Usually the poems are kind of dark and not very good, but I use them to address the things that I feel but can’t always fully comprehend or understand. It can actually be pretty helpful at times.
This poem isn’t as dark as most of my others, but it still feels very poignant for me, so I thought I might share it and see of anyone else relates.
When I was little, Time seemed to go so slow.
I thought I would have forever and a day
To get to wherever I needed to go.
I laughed in the face of Time, in the face of Age.
I could never understand how, when I was older,
Time would become a finely wrought iron cage.
Then I grew older, and Time picked up the pace.
Everything flew by in the blink of an eye
As I stumbled behind in that breakneck race.
Days became memories, too fleeting and brief.
Time had become a cruel, pitiless monarch,
Lording over my life, laughing at my grief.
I thought Time was just a measure of the day,
But I came to learn that time is really life,
Sorrowful and beautiful in its own way.