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.

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