The Time

While a stiff fist opens,
Strangely feeling abandoned,
Words resound inside a hollow heart.
When will it be the time to be merry, not just for one; but for all?
To absorb life like some fine old wine.

Visions of all the people in life we met,
So many left behind, and so much unsaid.
Sadly, said so often when alone and unheard.
What would it be like if we could predict the span,
Of laughter we can share with someone when still mildly fresh.

How long does it take for a heart to mend?
Heal wisely into tomorrow’s sunrise.
Heave sighs when old winds touch by.
An attempt to measure the time frame
When will it be the time to start all over again?


8 thoughts on “The Time

  1. i love your poem preeti
    i relate to it..

    the time to start over is NOW πŸ™‚
    we are already wise. so that means the healing as begun..
    i feel abandoned, i feel lost but i am searching for myself .. i am now slowly discovering ME πŸ™‚ the new ME is shy but nevertheless is stronger, wiser, better.

    i am at peace, i am poised, serene and calm πŸ™‚

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