Home > Creative Writing > Poetry
Created on: June 08, 2009
Time
Time is a voracious predator.
Its stealth is unmatched, for without a sound-
It will take from us any and all promise of tomorrow.
Its sharp talons, always poised and curled,
Easily pluck the unsuspecting of us from our reverie,
And steal from us our potential greatness.
Time is a ruthless, bastard child-
Having neither mother, nor father,
Holding no love for man, woman, nor beast.
Time is the commodity that we possess the least of,
But it is that thing which we are willing to pay the most for.
And in the end, there was never enough.
Learn more about this author, Stuart Leopold.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Poetry: No time
Time cannot be lost
Just simply forgotten
After hour and after day
We strive on, downtrodden
Walking past the past
Unto
I took time for granted
because I'd invented
a clever little machine.
Painstakingly painted
a pitiful patchwork
by Karla Perry
Unbound
Who has got the time to think?
There are dishes in the sink
And laundry on the brink
Of becoming quite a
I reflect on memories of the past
I realize there is no time
To absently waste our tomorrows
To look for what we can not find
Knowing
EPIC GLORY
There is no time
for the mind
to whisper in silence
crouched
in anticipation
for flight
and to do
what no man
View All Articles on: Poetry: No time