Father Time

Another 100 word storytelling (poem-ish).  I thought I'd play around with the spaces around this poem, which I've been doing with the last few ones.  Why?  Just for fun.

Happy New Year!

Enjoy!

*picture is originally from http://www.flickr.com/photos/upinthevalley/10415191304/

12/31/2013 (Tuesday)- Father Time

he sits in his chair. 

white dirty-beard, white forlorn-eyes… 

forgotten.

he sits stooped by the weight of his namesake around his neck, and every year it gets just a little bit heavier, 

as he’s pushed to the corner.

make way old-timer, they say with

loud pink-champagne,

dud-firecrackers and

lists of

easy resolutions.

make way for the new! go back to ya curb!

                                                                                          and they forget.

a life he gave up,

                                                                           lives he couldn’t save,

                                                                                          lives he had to take.

like grains of sand

innumerable. 

                                             a silver ball drops.

                              he sits in his chair. 

               forgotten,

                              uncounted,

                              like a grain of sand.