Poets logo

The lost years

Time is a flowing liquid

By John WilsonPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Like

Not like lost baggage

You can find it in the lost and found office,

The lost years

I don't even know where I lost it --

Some disappear in bits and pieces,

Some lost a decade or two,

Some lost in the noisy city,

Some lost in the distant wilderness,

There are crowded stations,

Some are cold and quiet under the small oil lamp;

What is missing is not like paper. It can be picked up

Pouring is more like a bowl of water thrown to the ground

Dried up, not a shadow in sight;

Time is a flowing liquid

With a sieve, with a net, can not salvage;

Time cannot be turned into a solid,

It would be nice to fossilize,

Even tens of thousands of years ago, I can be found in the rock

Time is like a gas,

Like smoke from the head of a speeding train!

The lost years are like a friend,

Cut ties, endured some hardships,

The news came out of the blue; He said

He's long gone from this world

surreal poetry
Like

About the Creator

John Wilson

I am a freelance writer and I hope my articles will give you pleasure

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.