In this age of saving precious time
for what?, for where?, for whom?.
of hoarding each second like gold dust..
as if every lost minute spells doom...
Hurrying all the while, we move so fast,
not counting the cost to our souls...
racing from A to B...as if driven at speed
to our life's end, there to face our lost goals
Was it worth it, the hoarding, the saving
as if life's a game or a lottery of chance?
why not choose to swirl in a slow waltz,
not spin round the dance floor in the latest fast dance,
look all around you
take stock of who you are,
what you truly want done
for without knowing yourself,
you have found no answers
at 'Game Over', it's too late ...your time has gone...