Micropoetry — Fear of time entrenched
into every crevice of society,
dyed grey hairs, lasered wrinkles,
waning memories that falter,
deterioration of the physical,
a species in denial of aging,
moving forward, in reverse,
resisting the natural process,
a flower does not ask
whether it should bloom,
it just simply does,
we are all hostages to time,
yet…