The sticking hands strike every time,
We get so much opportunities to shine.

But we like to stay in our past,
In our present making its cast.

We decorate our present with worries,
There are much to be carried.

We imagine future only with difficulties,
Everything has two sides,
Why to see only prejudice?

Time is slow for those who wait,
They carve their memories on slate.

It is too long for those who mourn,
There is a chance for their torn.

It is too fast for those who enjoy,
Sometimes they become time's toy.

It is too short for those who toil,
They eventually cry over the time they spoil.

Time is eternity for those who love,
They become the epitome of dove!
© TheUncoveredThoughts