One day in, one day out,
Passing as swift as a fallen tear,
Quicker than rain will come a new year.
Knocking upon my door like Death to his foe,
Saying "Come out! Your time has come you know."
The sky is staring,
The trees are watching,
Silently daring me to come out.
Time is something we do not see,
But filters through our veins ever so quickly,
Each day wanting more,
Always knocking upon our door,
Not welcome but stepping in,
Running away with bits of our lives,
Leaving us only scraps of a precious memory.
One day here, one day gone,
A new day with the break of dawn.
The Stealer returns yet once again,
Nibbling away at the black of my soul.
Invisible time, like bony fingers, grasping the strings of my life,
Taking time, the most precious thing,
Running away with the making of my life.
Painfully screaming for the taken to return,
Wishing for the past, the time that did burn.
Pleading with the wretched darkness that took it away,
Each bit, day by day.
The Stealer, with no pitty, laughs wistfully in its own darkness.
Villainous eyes, evil grin, bony fingers grabbing...grabbing...taking more.
Stealer, here today, gone tommorrow,
Crouching in darkness ready to return,
Running away with stolen time,
Fleeing with my life
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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
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