REY ADEL & DIOMA'S POETRY ANTHOLOGY OF POEMLETS: TIME RACER
There's a fool I know who raced with time.
He thought he'd beat the second tine.
First, he started from the twelfth-hour dot
But dashed around against the path.
Sometime after, he met the slim hand
And asked the latter where she's bound
The hand answered, "To the usual ground
From where you started this first round."
The fool did not seem to understand
The answer, he thought, was nearly bland.
His pace bigger but lagged behind
Harried, too, although counterbound.
He's quarter to end, they met anew
The tiny hand ahead with a few
She laughed not because it was so true:
He made a flaw but never knew!
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