Beware Its empty promises that every moment contains a memory
and that you can choose to make more of your time.
Time is a liar, a thief, a dream, and an escape.
Much of what you have is nothing –
the nothingness of sleep, work, crying, and walking back and forth
forgetting what you came into the room for.
Not every raindrop will be heard
and not every bird will fly.
Time makes it so that we hear and taste and feel what we do,
and Time takes away so much.
I imagine Time as a broad gate of cast iron.
There is us on one side and infinity on the other.
Neither is important, neither is memorable on their own,
but Time makes it so.