If I were to write a poem, in twenty minutes time,
Would I bother with rhythm, reason, or rhyme?
I should have to capture that moment, my mind on a day
The racings, the pacings, the shot of brilliance–the delay.
Today I don’t have time.
Today I can’t fall in line, with the rhythm of my life, the rhythm of the rhyme.
There’s so much that’s passing, there’s no standing still.
And life keeps on moving, and so I guess that I will–
Keep on running along, keep on pounding the pavement
But at times I wonder, oh God, where those days went
The time of the past, oh man that was ten years ago.
It feels so far away, where did that moment go?
And so often I can’t remember what was yesterday,
All those yesterdays that were so briefly today.
And Today. And Today.
What can I do with today?
The right now?
The here and gone, the not here to stay?
I guess I’ll just write a poem,
And go to my next class.