Time

Better late than never, my attempt at 'time'.

Why is that when in distress

time becomes a tangled mess

of regrets and despair.

A piece of string that has no end,

knotted, twisted, bend on bend.

Boundless.

Frustration, anger, foolish pride,

grief, despair wrapped up inside.

Ceaseless.

Forced to attack with teeth and nail,

we tug and bite but to no avail.

The knots are tight.

If only we could pull apart

and trace the string back to the start.

Choose a different path.

Back to that moment, we had a choice.

Listen to a different voice

and pay attention.

Will time take us to a different place?

Or return full circle so we must face 

the here and now.