the hardest part about

Drinking Wine

and writing poetry

At Midnight

is that,

By Morning,

it’ll read too

Real

to keep.

A second ticks away

And I don’t notice

A minute ticks away

And I don’t mind

An hour ticks away

Well, it’s about time

A day ticks away

Where did it go?

A week ticks away

Party away the weekend

A month ticks away

My how time flies

A year ticks away

Huh, guess I’m older

Then what?

A decade ticks away?

A century ticks away?

A millennium ticks away?

A lifetime ticks away

Does God notice?

A rock thrown

Is worth two in the hand

So make a splash

And make your stand

Pick your hill

And make it your grave

Prefer to speak

Than to shut up and behave

You can’t make allies

Without making a few enemies

It takes small seeds

To grow mighty trees

It takes a rock thrown

To make great ripples