They say you heal,
All wounds, anger and hard feelings,
A life-long deal,
Soothing away every pain with your tickings.
They say you’re an illusion,
Days named and hours counted,
Freezing men in delusion,
Each second passed; neglected.
They say you’re a gift and blessing,
God-given upon all,
Yet most are incessantly chasing,
Outrunned and deprived in a pitfall.
They say you’re many things,
It matters not what you are,
For verily men are loss beings,
Always too late for you have gone far.