It Seems if The Minutes of Our Lives Are in a Race.
The Days Go Faster and Faster.
Running through the days.
Moments gone in the blink of an eye.
Disappear like vapor in a summer haze.
There was a thrill and a sigh,
At the touch of your hand.
How I want these moments to stay.
A bouguet of roses that little gold band.
Who will remember our happy chase?
This is our own season of may.
Time will paint lines on this happy face.
Does our love continue in forever land?
Or will time remove every trace?
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!