Coming up to New Year, I always think of this poem...

FATHER TIME



I saw the old thief, Father Time,
Came hirpling down the road,
He had a sack upon his back;
Lost minutes were his load,
He opened it and showed to me,
Not minutes, but a host,
Of years, decades a century
Or more of minutes lost,
"I want to buy a year," I said,
"And I shall pay you well."
"If this Earth's mould were finest gold,
to you I would not sell,
For I have minutes stolen from Kings,
From Milton, Shakespeare and Bach,
How could you buy such precious things,
Your common gold is trash?"
He tied his sack and said,
"Farewell, young man, I have got my fee."
For while I tried to make him sell,
He stole an hour from me.

[b]Harvey Scott[/b]

A New Year Poem.


A New Year reality check,
Another year, another chance
to start our lies anew;
This time we will leap old barriers
to have a real break through.
We will take one little step
and then we will take one more,
Our unlimited potential
we will totally explore.
We will show off all our talents
Everyone will be inspired;
(While I'm writing this,
I'm getting very tired.)
We will give up all bad habits,
we will read and learn a lot.
All our goals will be accomplished,
Sigh.....or maybe not.



[u]Anonymous[/u]