The Day Time Caught Fire

The Day Time Caught Fire

I found a piece of time one day,
crumpled underneath my chair,
it had yesterday upon it,
but tomorrow was not there.

My phone was buzzing on the table,
full of people passing through,
showing lives of perfect colours,
though I knew they were not true.

Every button stole a minute,
every picture took some more,
until half my day had vanished
through a little glowing door.

I took the lighter in my hand,
and watched the flame grow tall,
then touched it to the word of time
and waited for it all.

The edges curled like frightened leaves,
the centre glowed bright red,
and all the hours I had wasted
rose like ghosts above my head.

I saw the days I spent regretting,
I saw nights I lay awake,
worrying about tomorrow
and every choice I had to make.

The fire swallowed all my sorrow,
burned the words that caused me pain,
but it could not burn my memories,
for they came alive again.

I saved one corner from the flame,
a little piece still new,
and wrote across it carefully,
“Today belongs to you.”

Then I left my phone behind me
and walked out beneath the sky,
for time will never wait around,
however much we cry.