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The clock of life is wound but once, and no one has the power, to tell just where the hands will stop, at late or early hour. To lose one's wealth is sad indeed, to lose one's health is more, but to lose one's soul is such a loss, as no one can restore. So live, love, toil with a will. But place no faith in tomorrow, for the clock may then be still.
By: Jason Langley
- Title: The Clock of Life
- Artist: 420 gamer
- Description: a poem i wrote when i was 9yr old, i'm 34 now
- Date: 09/01/2009
- Tags: clock life poem
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Rusted Over Wet Dreams - 05/11/2010
- this honestly made me cry a little smile
- Report As Spam
- Zero Ember - 09/01/2009
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It's a nice poem,
truth dripping from each line, as we all march to the beat of time... - Report As Spam
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