The older I get
The more I think about
my journey
on that one way road
I count the seeds I should have sown
and all the dreams
I abandoned on the crossroads
Sometimes my brain just wants to explode
There are so many mysteries
yet to decode
and memories begin to erode.
I think about time all the time.
Days fly by
minutes and hour seem shorter
And after all is said and done
All I want to do is make good
of the time
write a poem everyday
and on occasion make it rhyme.
