Time is a dear friend,
An old poet used to say,
As it gets us old..
Time is an enemy,
With sword and gun
Keeping the restless on the run..
Sitting here I count my time,
And see myself trapped
Into confusion and blame..
It’s not how many steps
I have taken
It’s not which road I follow
It’s the willingness to move
That can stop the time
And standing there,
You tell yourself
Time is my vehicle
To ride, to overcome
Challenge life should offer
By then, there are no more goodbyes…..