This Thing Called Time
To: The One, I will spend the rest of time and eternity with.
by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
Time can be an enemy, yet sometimes be a friend,
There is a time that we all grow, and then a time we mend,
Time that seems to make us late, can sometimes make us cry,
There is a time we call our life, and then the time we die.
Time is used to measure days, we spend here on this Earth,
It helps divide the times in life, and re-calls all from birth,
It is a constant from this world, and then it fades away,
Taking all within its grasp, and making a new day.
Time it seems can measure space, and all ones distant travels,
It rushes us throughout our lives, and then delays arrival,
There's always time for disappointment, and appointed time,
But time that's somehow wasted, seems such an awful crime.
Time can not be bottled, nor packaged in a bag,
But when it's managed wisely, time seems not to lag,
This timely realization, sometimes is not remembered,
Events that seem so timely, though cherished may be squandered.
And now you have, your space in time, for all that it is worth,
To you it seems, a grand old time, your life upon the Earth,
But you will see, that time flys by, and empties your lifes cup,
So make it count, this thing called time, before it's all used up.