An hour or two

What is an hour? What is an hour, really? 

I spend one and I lose one, every breath or so nearly. 

And what about a morning, if I sleep right on through it? 

I’ll just have breakfast at dusk, whenever I get to it. 

And yes I am in mourning, of all that passed between, 

the sunrises I have, and sadly have not seen. 

Halfway through my twenties, and I've forgotten to breathe, 

through most I’ve bitten into, with all my might and teeth. 

Haste -oh yes, that I make, but I’ve already missed,

to taste the golden intro, of light I could have kissed. 

But what are a couple decades? Really, what are they? 

I spend them and I lose them, while here in bed I lay. 

And what are my dreams of youth, if I snooze on through it? 

I'll eat them all for breakfast, whenever I get to it.

Author's Note

Aggh! The joy of finishing a poem that encapsulates the moment you find yourself in exactly! I wanted to prolong this joy by sharing it, but I couldn't think of with who, so I found this lovely community online. I like how everyone here shares their writing passion for exactly that, the passion. I want to write poems more often so if you have any suggestions or ideas they are very welcome. Have a great day!

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I am much older than you. Don’t waste time, it is precious. You will reger it when you get to my age. I love your poem. Beautifully penned. Welcome here.

Chris

[Rosalien]

Hi Chris, thank you for your words of encouragement! I'll try to follow your advice :)