Time

Your coming of age and realising
This life isnt a practice

You grasp the nettle and test your mettle against the sting
Time
Is a spring...that curious thing thats always flowing ..until the one day it stops
And digging away for the remains of the day
You find yourself
Thirsty

The dust of your hometown choking you down
Days are filled with linger
And test the breeze with your finger
Favored breeze
And the sap in trees to turn the leaves
Turn the clock
Turn the reasons

Tuen one day you gave it away for a quiet soul to fall asleep

No more chasing the sun
No more days to find your way.

You found the easy way

But

The hunger of youth for some
Ice and wave upon the soul to crack

And time you begin to track cracks in the facade.

And get you on your feet again

Nettle filled field of dreams await
And you cant longer hear what your saying
The nettle sting
Poison things and one last dying dream...

The train runs,out of steam as it approaches the station
For some
Life becomes a train that never comes
Wait in vain by your rusted tracks
Dreams and never coming backs...

Time is a spring that runs on dreams

Pilgrim
Get off your haunches and all the failed launches and pack your things and go

Before you be-come to late
Off you go Pilgrim
Off you GO!