Only when time's gone,
is time gold;
not when you got some,
your hand holds;
not when you got one
that's turned old;
but when you got none;
you can't fold;
unlike some earth fun,
it's not sold
neither asked, nor won,
nor be mold,
though, could be a gun;
you can't scold,
for you were the son
who controlled;
'cause as it begun,
it's unrolled;
it can't be undone;
but upholds;
your days like the sun
heat or cold;
it grows on and on;
it grows bold;
it might move along
like thoughts blown;
you could feel alone;
and unknown;
yet time can't be thrown;
nor disowned;
but can be your throne;
'till gravestone.
