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The Constant
June 6, 2013
Tick, tock
Tick, tock
The clock ticks like the metronome of life;
Laughter fills the air like the melody of our day.
As time goes on, we face crescendos and diminuendos.
Sometimes we fall flat, but we can come back sharp.
Power can grow to express a fortissimo,
But just as easily become a weak pianissimo.
Our song keeps playing, never to stop until we pass.
The coda comes closer, and we near the end.
There’s nothing to fear as the double bars appear,
Because each song composed is one of beauty.
© Kimberly C., Houston, TX
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