If Time is a limited resource
Spent carelessly
In the shadow and wake of lost moments.
These buried treasures
We’ve misplaced the map to.
Squash the parasite
That feeds on your time
Sucking
And draining
To fill their cup of value.
Measure the quality that passes through life.
Are these the things
We want to fill the cup of time with?
Are these the things that are important?
A tree grows branches
In the direction of light and longevity
To ensure its existence each season.
Why do we not do the same?
Growing ourselves
Towards dark corners
Of Severed interests.
If time were water,
Would we spill our finite glass
Over dry Earth each day?