The End of Time

My houseplant makes its last stand brave,

Like withered hopes I tried to save,

 Its will to live outshone my own,

But brown leaves whisper nature's loan— 

The end of time.

The "limited edition" sweet,

That childhood store no longer keeps,

Those flavours lost to progress march,

Now live in memory's golden arch—

The end of time.

My vintage games won't load today,

Technology has slipped away,

Those saves I never got to beat,

Now fade in obsolete defeat—

The end of time.

The café where we used to meet,

Becomes another bank on street,

Our corner table's final scene,

Now holds a ATM machine—

The end of time.

My granddad's watch still tries to tick,

Though hands move slow and gears stick thick,

Each second fought with stubborn grace,

Like memories of his smiling face—

The end of time.

Yet endings spawn new tales untold,

As fresh paths rise from stories old,

And though some chapters must conclude,

New books are waiting to be viewed—

Till end of time.