Poetry / Time

Does time
conspire, expire, or retire?

Cross the line or start a fire?
with hold answers to it’s own questions?
Give out, up, or in?
Sneak-up and catch you in the act?
Plan the end or play by ear?
Does it even care or know it’s own mystery?
Can it tell me why the question mark curves?
Can it hide you from the world if you play it right?
As darkness receeds, comes in the light.
This must be over.
I think its time.

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