Started this one over a year ago and set it aside to let it "mellow" - irony that you will understand by the end of the poem!
Just Killing Time
“I’m killing time” – it’s often said
as though it weren’t a crime
And most, I’d say, do it each day
in every hill and clime
Weapons vary, motives too
results are just the same –
Time is dead and can’t come back
no matter remorse or shame
Time is the stuff ‘which life is made
some portion comes to all
Each must decide how much to use
how much to let just fall
And killing time is often fun
there’s much to entertain
while we sit back and just observe
as such our lives don’t change
There’s not to show for time we’ve killed
No corpse, no blood, no gore
No line is penned, no music scored
No art to sit before
No house is cleansed, no food prepared,
no place is seen, no chore
We lounge and watch what others do
We never leave our shore
In years to come, when looking back
what memories will swell,
The ones where we’ve just lazed around?
The ones with time spent well?
Time we can use to learn, to grow
To master some new skill
To touch the hands of those hung down
To lift, to build, to fill
That’s not to say that recreate
Is bad, is waste, is wrong
‘Tis a matter of how it’s viewed
does it bless and make us strong?
But if our lives are focused
on fun, on merry, on mirth
then time it is, we’re out to kill
when time could lead to birth
Of gardens, paintings, poetry
paths trod, vistas viewed
There really is no limit
to a new life, a life renewed
So when you start to thinkin’
what to do to just kill time
dust off your dreams, get up and go
you’ve mountains yet to climb!
