Racing Time

Time seems to lead while traveling to and fro.
Exasperated tempers flare, like solar rages from the Sun.
Kindness slips away, as frail are left alone.
Regretable words spew forth, as they strike guiltily at the heart.
Time still leads as rushed we are from place to place.
Soccer, dancing, hobbies and more fill the day with not a moment to spare.
Lunch is a munchie, crunchy affair.
Dinner sometimes flying, sometimes homely.
Everywhere to go, no minute unaccounted for.
Time gains speed.
Small surprises all around, watched with passive eyes.
Memories created but never returned to.
No reflective morsels to contend with, the mind is scattered.
Earth whirlwinds past, not waiting for anyone.
Certainly not for those who haven’t caught up with time.
So as the potential for this day to be the last, stretch out your numbed limbs and surpass time.
You dictate who’s race it is, be proud and strong.
And you will win against racing time.

Copyright Corbie Sinclair 2011.

This is my poem for this weeks One Shot Wednesday poem. It goes along with yesterdays form for poetry, free verse. Please visit the other very talented poets at