TIME
Time plays tricks on us all,
giving hopes of promises,
of days filled with love.
Then as we hold out our arms
ready to embrace,
it snatches the dream
which veils us in black velvet
and we are left naked,
bleeding,
ripped from the wombs of safety.
Alone again,
cold heart again,
without arms of purity
holding us,
hiding us.

I should realise by now
the company I have
that walks beside me on this winding track
is only there a moment.
For they have their own
paths to follow


Copyright 'Chelle Hine 1994