I’m shaking hands with time-
Despite each birthday I deny.
I’m aware that men are made
In dawns…In sighs…in labor…
While youth is taken quietly,
Effortlessly.
Yes, I’m shaking hands with time-
While The laughing child bathes
In the crimson blood of my past
Which I keep in glass vials
Beside a humble bedpost-
Youth's ichors do not run through me
They’re only captive memories
Which serve to humble a jaundiced heart,
Into terror, Into agony!
My hand is grasping time’s
Shaking not out of courtesy,
But shaking in fear
Lazarus Knix
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shaking-hands-with-time-stream-of-consciousness-poem/
