We have fought many applaudable battles,

But our biggest one will forever be against time itself.

In a world where people grow older,

Than what we now see as fortunate,

With more time on our hands,

We spend lesser time on the what-s and more on the whys.

More time on the intricacies of life,

On the meaning of who we are,

What we’re made of in our minds and souls,

Not just voluminous blood and brittle bone.

As we race against clocks we can’t see,

We’ll learn to live a little more in the moment,

Focus lesser on the rights and lefts

And a lot more on the rights and wrongs.

A picture painted by our ancients a century ago,

Rivalled the tapestry that we have woven for ourselves now.

In a world where people grow older,
Than what we then saw as fortunate,
With more time on our hands,

We have more questions and lesser answers.
More time on the intricacies of life,

What we mean to the world and how much we can claim,
What we’re made of in our minds and souls,

Battles as each sees two different sides of a coin.
As we race against clocks we can’t see,

We force to go just a little bit faster,

Focus lesser on rights and more on coin,

Lest we miss something; we lose our minds…

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Note: Prompt was to write a poem set a hundred years ago or a hundred years from now