Twenty-Five Years



Twenty-five years
Twenty-five days
A quarter of a century

Lost my dear?
You have nothing to fear
There are no conquests, no victories

Age is but a myth
For none can avoid the scythe
And you will grow up eventually

So fill this time with memories
Content for future stories
In this very special January

The Most Valuable Commodity


Tick tock goes the clock
Indicating the passing of time
Fearful or hopeful?
The highest value
No good can even compare
Can never be sold
Useless to the dead
But daunting to those who live
Threaded memories
Joy can spend it well
Sadness wastes it every day
Infinite it isn't

Miniature Writing Challenge #54