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WordsWords,That is all they areThey cannot voice the deepest despairNor sing the greatest joyThey are an invention of manA failed try to express ourselvesAn imitationBut then, a few simple utterancesIncorrectly used syllablesJust sounds in truthShatter barriersCommunicationIn the simplest formEvoking things that stay with us foreverSilently influencingShaping who we are
TimeIt binds us in a scheduleTells us when to sleepWhen to eatWhen to workAnd when to playEven sometimes, what to sayFor some it passes to fastFor others, to slowWhile some don’t even knowWith nonstop tickingIt holds our livesIn its thrallTells the sun when to riseAnd when to fallNever backwards, always forwardsMoving on without a glanceFor the pastLeaving us to reminisceAbout the times of youthful bliss
FatherA little girl sits on a bike for the first timeWith golden pigtails and tears in her eyesShe turns to her father and says, “I can’t”Her father looks her in the eye and gravely replies, “I know you can,”Before he lets go and watches her roll down the pathThey kneel together in the gardenBoth covered in dirt from head to toeBut neither seems to noticeHis big hands gently guiding her little ones, covering tiny seeds with the fresh earthAs he teaches her their names and what they'll grow to beThe sunlight glints off slowly moving waterThey stand next to the river, their fishing poles lying at their feetShe opens her mouth for the hundredth time, “I’m sorry I let go of the chain dad; I lost all those fish.”But he doesn’t care, he’s too proud that she caught that giant fishAnd he tells her soAs time passes byThe little girl starts to grow upStarts to think that she doesn’t need him anymoreThen one