What is time?
What does it do? What is it, really?
Something continuous, without space
Without end, Without face
Waiting for no one
Always in a hurry
From sunup to sundown
Always in a scurry
What are we in this place called time?
Some call it a fabric in time, could we really go back?
Time has no change, what is it we lack?
Why do so many say
there is no time?
When clearly there is
Is it just an excuse, to not lend a hand
When someone calls out for a helping hand
We should always give a stranger
the benefit of the doubt, you never know
An angel you will encounter in the end
So many scammers, liars, how is one to know?
In this fabric of time that is now
I think we can know
If we offer a helping hand, we could be blessed
to know someone, we never knew, would be an angel
It's hard to trust, I know, but what do we have to lose
but a little of our time, it could be time well spent
More satisfying, then money
Time when you look around is plenty to go around
So stop and give a helping hand
You never know who you might be helping