Time stole another day from me this week.I turned around twice and it disappeared.
It’s like Time’s got a razor that’s so sleek
I only feel it after I’ve been sheared.
And then sometimes I wake up and the day
Will flesh out like a light year, and I’ll be
Ambered in moments, lost in the array
Where fading instants kiss infinity.
Time’s like a weepy alcoholic friend
Who steals my scotch and then buys me champagne—
A pawnbroker who promises to lend
Me all, then zip—a door to joy, then pain—
Who’ll rob and bless me day by day, because
Time is a thief who's also Santa Claus.
Copyright 2013 Matthew J Wells