Could be saved and spent,
Even wasted or lost, through one’s own conduct
Conversely, one can not borrow, lend or steal
Nor could it be accumulated, preserved or hoarded
We all own it by birth, yet inheritance does not count
Not transferable either, to the most esteemed even
It is every one’s concern too, but lacks reciprocation
Matters only to events, processes and beings
It carries no color, hue, or tint of any visual paradigm
Nor does it own some sort of design or a pattern
Looks like, somewhat a commodity, in fiscal terms
So much so, you and I wouldn't exist, sans its affection
Even so, never meant for eating or drinking
Simply for, it is not the kind of that sort
It is valued, but, value has no solitary worldwide unit
Still, it is willingly bought by those who can afford
Although one can measure, quantify and qualify
No way could one weigh it on any scale of a norm
Don’t think of changing its state of motion
Always it clutches on to you, for, it is yours own
One can not afford not to know it, hence
For, you are simply none, minus its attachments
Know it, as a prerequisite, for managing the same
You will shine, your humble helper will not know even
You may stick a price, then, that’s only yours own
And may equal with or rank over even most valued
Non-aligned to absolute values, works on relative terms
Valued and used only by worthy and laudable
It is at your disposal so long as you need and use it
Nonetheless, never will it boast or demand in return
Past present and future, symbolizing fantasy passage
You are taken through, like it or not, by TIME
Jayatissa Liyanage
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-is-it-that/
