Slow Motion

The words, they come slower

The days, they go faster

 

As time goes by

Change is constant

As time dwindles

Nothing changes

 

A time, when all seemed possible

A past, where possibilities died

 

Memories of things

That never happened

People once loved

Love that crashed

 

The words, they come slower

The days, they go faster

 

Waterfalls stream

Rainbows shimmer

Days darken

Nights creep

 

Of friends, many remembered

Of others, mostly forgotten

 

Love was a thing

Beauty inspired

Light my life

Memories fade

 

The words, they come slower

The days, they go faster

About kingmidget

About the name. I was the youngest of four. Until I got to kindergarten, I didn't have much to say. All I had to do to get what I wanted was to point, and a sibling, or loving parent, would fulfill my request. As a result, my father coined the nickname -- King Midget. At least that's the way the story goes. I am a father, husband, friend, and lover, writer, runner, pizza maker, baker, and many other things. What I am not is my occupation. It is my job that pays the bills and provides for my family. But, it does not define me.
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6 Responses to Slow Motion

  1. Dale says:

    Isn’t that how it often goes?
    Lovely, Mark.

  2. Trent Lewin says:

    Days go faster, make your words match the pace. Or exceed it. We have that power.

    Thanks for the poem, Mark. It’s a bit jolting to see a poem out of you, but I enjoyed it.

  3. Gorgeous poetic summary of ageing

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