How
frequently; how often,
Have
each and every one of us
Wished
we could soften
The
blows that life delivers us
And
capture time in a bottle?
How
desperately; how terribly,
Have
each and every single one of us
Wished
we could forcibly
Remove
the ills that trouble us
By
capturing time in a bottle?
The
problem with us
Is
that we have blinkered vision
And
forget that time resides within us
In
a kind of a prison
For
we ourselves are the bottle.
The
joy within us
Is
that we create our own destiny
And
the choices are ours
To
make with careful scrutiny
For
we hold time within our bottle.
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