It's been a while since I shared anything literature wise. So here is a poem about time. I hope you'll enjoy reading it:

Time

She hears
stale seconds
falling from the clock
and tinkling into her bowl
of corn flakes.
She sees minutes wilting
like flowers
in a vase shaped
like an hourglass.
There was a time when
all her troubles
were worth enduring,
worth outlasting,
worth outliving.
But now she knows.
She knows
that time has no meaning
when there's nothing
and no one left
to wait for.

Jaundré M. van Breda © 2018

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