I Am Trapped in Time

I am trapped

In time.

My passing rhyme

Must end

When he taps

Me on the shoulder

And says, “its over

My friend”.

 

And will aliens find

Fragments of poetry

And ponder on rhyme

And fleeting time?

 

 

Or will they see

An unintelligible line?

Or perhaps not care

When and where

We humans wrote,

Then cut our throat?