He sat on that lonely bench
alone at the end of a park
He saw at the field beneath
the trodden ground blazing aftermath
He left behind his time
he came in morning and it turned dark.
Watching the little ants on field
swarming through the petty white weeds
He wrapped his emotions to his heart
confined them deep within locked chest
he took his stick and bend forward
it was not raining still he wept
Time was all over his thoughts
hooked in every nook & strand
he remember the time
when his son was born
till the time he wed.
Time is a healer, it reveals too
who is own and who otherwise
time though takes its own time
and some wounds need a time morphine
Who said you can cry in rain?
Who said blood thicker than water?
Disdain and disheartened
he rued his times that let him down
he rummaged the memory and frown
It’s all about time
and I hope my good time will come too
Picture courtesy: the magpietales