We can’t see it we can’t touch it but we can see the effects.
It keeps ticking along and it’s easily spent.
Some to waste none to lose quite a bit lost in trade.

All born with some but no moment guaranteed.
If we had oceans of time what would life be?
Regrets of days wasted away simply roaming the streets.
If each moment is precious why don’t we treat them as such…

In the hope of immortality it’s been pursued in great lust.
Have I got oceans of time or is it lost in my rhymes?
The way it goes by has much to do with the mind.

Time flies in unfettered fun.
It slows to a grinding halt in boredom’s regrets drenched in rum.
In oceans of time one may just go blind.
It’s lost its value in mediocrity without its familiar signs.

In youth and old age its spent in different ways.
Who wouldn’t love to go back and repeat our most cherished days?
Here are oceans of time frozen in just a few lines.

Reflection

This poem was a lot of fun to write... Abstract topics like this one are quite enjoyable to write about. It's hard to seize the moment and really take advantage of the time we have at our disposal. Only a madman would waste it if they truly understood how little of it we really have. Experience is there waiting for you, reach out and grab it!

Thanks,
Another Poet