says time

"It's time,”

says time.

"I'm sorry, what?"

I respond.

"You've not loved

Or learned sufficient

In this time and

Now time is up."

"Are you sure?"

I ask.

"No.

I'm time.

I've punched a hole

In the planet

And you have

Catharsis."

"Is that what

I asked for?"

"Not so

long ago."

I turn a sad eye

To the things

I've neglected

To do and

Time asks me,

"How likely would it be

You would love

Or live or conquer

If you had another

Sixty years?"

"Almost damn certain."

I say.

© 2011 Yorgo Douramacos