Time Marches On

The sunlight blinks gold Then fades as evening unfolds. The wind is subtle, As it whispers its warnings. Autumnal dreams are Scattered like red and brown leaves Across half-lit streets Of consciousness. The days are Darkening too soon. O summer seemed to race by Like a speeding train! I'm getting older, alas Not any wiser. Life's colours are slowly Being drained away. Modernity mocks us all By propagating Youthful slogans to conquer Apathy... boredom. These adverts and their jingles Do not amuse me. The clocks will keep on ticking: Constant reminders Of piece-meal mortality. How I wish I could Put Time into perspective. Yet it always slips Through my fingers like sand.