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Saturday, February 13, 2010

Tic Toc

Tic Toc,
time moves on and on,
yet, why do I feel stuck...
a wanderer repeating the same routine...
going over the same thing again&again,
hoping and wishing for it to end...
but at the same time afraid of the end that's drawing near....
how could I be so afraid of something unknown...
how did I become afraid of the future...


Tic Toc,
the clock moves on...
everything that passed seems like a blur now...
holding on to those memories seems virtually impossible,
to remember every single second spent with those I love,
to be able to cherish it and hope time stops or pauses...


Tic Toc,
time waits for no one,
and i have to keep going,
pushing on and holding on,
making my way through life...
hoping and praying for it to be ok each day...


Tic Toc,
time will soon make me more mature,
more understanding, and yet it comes with a price...
experience and all comes with a price and the price is AGE..
as I age older, I become more confident..


Tic Toc,
If aging shapes us into who we are,
Then why do we detest it???
Why do we hate wrinkles and spend so much to look younger..
Shouldn't we embrace it and say
"This is how I look like, seasoned with experienced and battered by the wind,
like a soldier standing at the end of a battle" triumph and proud...


Tic Toc,
we might all be afraid of the future and what it holds in store for us...
but let's not forget to be enthusiastic too,
for the future holds so many probabilities that might make us smile..

Tic 
           Toc
                        Tic 
                                   Toc
                                                 Tic
                                                            Toc
                                                                          Tic
                                                                                     Toc
                                                                                                     .
                                                                                                             .
                                                                                                                      .

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