Time Regulates and Time Eats Itself

There can never come a day
An evening or sweat,
When the cobwebs of history
Indulge us with so little regret.
These morsels of time,
Are like the soaps of a generation.
They are woven into
The fabric of a yesterday.
They are the lining
Of a life lived.
They are times which are forever receding
Into annals and recesses.
Lifetimes that are remembered
In yesteryear leaps.
Remembered?
Well yes, for now.
And the the young have nothing of this.
They are new to it, which is just fine.
Yet everyday they too
Are stacking up yesterdays,
Exactly like we did.
They have not yet noticed,
But they are doing so.
It goes on each day unnoticed,
Then, neither did we.
And to think,
It was only yesterday
We were doing the same.
Now I ask you, have times really changed?

© 2018 Christopher Thompson

All rights reserved

Cannock England

2 thoughts on “Time Regulates and Time Eats Itself

  1. Lovely poem, highly philosophical about the meaning of time and human existence.You should only eliminate one “the” on this line: “And the the young have nothing of this.”

    I like the following lines very much:

    “These morsels of time,

    Are like the soaps of a generation.

    They are woven into

    The fabric of a yesterday.

    They are the lining

    Of a life lived.”

    Also, I like the open end of the poem as it poses a question, a great one, and not just telling.

    BTW, thank you so much for the follow. I really appreciate this.

    Like

    1. You are welcome. I thank you for your comments and views. I am grateful too for the occasional nudge towards correct grammar. I am in the English Midlands, you should heat me speak!
      Kind Regards Chris T.

      Liked by 1 person

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