On Time

We are separated by two lines.


One is mine,

and the other is yours.


The ticking takes us apart,

and sometimes closer.


We follow our hearts,

to experience the seasons,

but ever so often,

the mind becomes the follower we focus on.


As the days go by, even years,

what moments are made of,

are just what we take of it.


Yours is yours. Mine is mine.


Till noon or midnight,

would we have that moment,

as ours.


That time, is divine.

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