Time.

Time is plenty,
And yet none at all,
We claim we have a long way to go
With life so small.

Time is not a friend,
But neither is it a foe,
It's yours when you have it,
and gone when you let go.

Time is a funny dimension, no man understands,
It disappears when you need it most,
But stays put when you want to wave a hand.

The life we look back to is nothing but a dream,
It's the moment we cherish and the memories we keep,

Time can be an optimist, and a pessimist at times,
But most of what it is is a realist with wine.

We somehow jell with it,
Grow with it too,
It has phases like the good, the great,
And some of them are blue.

Time is a mere dimension,
We perceive it as we like,
Time is a monotone,
With a plural eye.

Time is plenty,
And yet none at all.
Time is when you catch yourself,
Just before you fall.
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