The March of Time


Life was simpler back then, I’m told
And how things change as we grow old
The children now are uncontrolled
I once was important, you know

I made my choices long ago
And built this world for my ego
We ran fast from the nuclear snow
Now I give my messes to you

What a gift! If only you knew
These towers of gold are my due
Rome never fell, it’s in my view
Here, I’ll play you a little song

All the things I ever did wrong
The face I wore to prove I’m strong
These things meant nothing all along
And now I am growing so cold

Life was simpler back then, I’m told
I never wanted to grow old
The march of time is uncontrolled
The march of time never ends

I was in a cynical mood today, and I think my general annoyance with life came out a bit more than I like. This poem is a warning that if we don’t actively make choices to preserve the lives that come after us then we are doomed to be the villains we once hated in our youth. Because time always marches on, and that free-spirited youth we cherish will eventually disappear like a dream. Eventually, it will belong to someone else.

Sometimes it’s good to remind yourself to not be a jerk. Money, power, and fame are nice while they last, but there’s no sense in keeping a trophy case in your grave. Even the pharaohs couldn’t keep their treasures buried with them, and they tried harder than anyone to hoard their wealth in death.

Anyway, I’m still in a bit of a mood, so I’ll leave things off here. I hope you enjoyed my poem, and I’ll see you next time!

Your friend,

CC Lepki