work in progress

five years is a long time

a thousand faces will fly by

featured artists to your song

yet no royalties to ensue

five years is a short time

it all goes by 

in the blink of the eye

sad in fact, all those missed goodbyes

the clock we created

spins away, no day celebrated more 

than that of the today's yet

 we mourn the passing of yesterday

i heard it said in passing

time flies straightest when in joy

but silently soldiers on in times of pain

to what do we make of this game we play?

Seasons come and go

like people in a conga line

infatuated with satisfaction

a glimpse into something that matters