So many
hours in the day to ponder on.Not enough time for all I think about. My hands twine around each other in frustration,
no outlet,but for writing. So much time has passed in twenty-eight years, I can't seem to step ahead into my future. I can't seem to get forward bound, I'm stuck in my past, time is no friend of mine. She steals the great
times and weathers them, but makes the rough times last forever. It all seems too fast and hurried,us humans, with our watches and clocks,we can't get past the joy of the moment of just being.One day our time will come and we will end up alone,brokenhearted and bitter.Hours measured in second and minute hands, this is our bane of just being. Being in labor for sixteen and a half hours just flies by, but being with a lover ends all too fast.Pictures holds tight the great times,to be put away in a book.So you can go back and see them when all's
moving too fast for our liking.Pretty soon my son will be grown with a family of his own and I will be stuck wondering what happened to my curly headed little boy who chased the dog around the living room. A mother's love is never-ending, it's so true.I would stop time to just watch him as he is right now, there isn't enough time to sit and see him play,he's in motion all the time. Soon he will stop moving and sleep towards the new day ahead of him, leaving me to watch the bright new day pass by yet again. There is still time to wait for things, but what would it take to slow down a bit and just breathe?