To Whom it May Concern,
Thank you for taking your valuable time to read this.
I know your time is limited,
and that there never seems to be enough
to get everything done
To finish what was started.
It’s a funny thing, time.
We don’t seem to appreciate time enough;
It is a precious commodity
that not everybody has a lot of
Though some seem to have too much
And others waste what little they possess.
I know that time is futile to get back once it’s been lost
to the ever-growing expanses of the past,
where deadlines and limits no longer matter
because everything in the past
has already happened
Time can’t change the past,
only guide the future
Now and then, time decides to slacken
Like when the clock refuses to tick
and minutes seem like hours
and an hour seems like eternity
Sometimes we just can’t figure out where the time went.
Time exists only to show how little we have.
If our time was infinite,
we probably wouldn’t even notice.
Nobody would be in a hurry
Nobody would wait anxiously for something to happen
Nobody would lose patience
For there would be all the time in the world.
But we would likely grow complacent.
Alas, I know that time is fleeting, finite,
so I thank you again for giving some of yours.
One Who Writes, from Time to Time