So anyway, time occasionally gets away from me. And today being Limerick Friday (work with me here), I shall have my revenge.
Time's an illusion, you know
And lunchtime, of course, doubly so--
It so rapidly passes,
Or slow as molasses,
And where did my yesterday go?!?
The telling of time is an art
Take, for instance, the time we're apart:
That time is not reckoned
By hour or by second,
But measured in beats of my heart.
I remember when days used to last,
And a year was impossibly vast;
It seems yesterday morn
When my children were born--
How the hell did they grow up so fast?
My days, though to say so seems trite,
Seem to pass at the speed of--well, light.
If I only could see 'em,
I'd carpe each diem,
But they so quickly pass out of sight.
There--your turn! Time is of the essence!