Here it is, the first of June and I let May slip by without rounding it up with a Rhyme. Okay, so I'm a day late and a dollar short, (and I still use cliches in my writing), at least it inspired a rhyme to post today.
Like a bird with big wings,
time flies past my eyes.
Its clenced beak never brings
enough of the stuff.
I'm always wanting more
as each day slips away.
Like a miser, tight and poor,
I share, but can't spare.
So I treat it like gold;
make haste, never waste,
never allow it to grow old.
But more, I want more.
If only it could grow,
like leaves on the trees,
or move back, or go slow,
I'd be a new me.Since it won't, I must give
all the time that is mine
to good things and then live
with head high, not a sigh.
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