WASTED TIME

Seconds tick.
The tympany of lost moments
left to linger in the anteroom of thought.
In the expanse of eternal existance,
we offer resistance to the passing of days,
hoping to delay their demise; returning with
each new rise of the sun. But, when we are done,
will we be remembered for all we strived to be?
Or will we be forgotten in the unmarked grave
of obscurity? Our procrastination is telling.
Time's a wasting. There's no tasting success
until we kick up our heels and initiate.
Tick, tick, tick,...



**For micro poetry's prompt, "AND I QUOTE..." - "If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin." ~ Ivan Turgenev


Walt