The World is a Changing Place

Crinkled skin and cracked lips

Carved the face of a patient man.

A worn cardboard sign, hung around his travelled neck,

It read:

Time has passed me by and I have passed by it.

 

You could watch him for an hour

And while he seemsĀ painted by the past

The world walks by, falling, flowing and tumbling on:

Ready for the future, eager to move on.

 

He breathes, he sighs, he smells, he sees.

His senses are keen and haveĀ seen a hundred years

In the time it takes to smile.

 

But the time has come for him to walk;

The world is a changing place.

He breathes, he sighs, he smells, he sees.

But there is no time, no more.