The needle tips forward, for much like humans, clocks were made.
Is time is linear to your mind or relative to your soul?

Can you pick up broken pieces of your past? will you, yourself embrace?

Will you pick up those crushed flowers and put them back in the vase?

When summer brings spring, will you be there to cherish the breeze?
When love leaves you barren, and time begins to cease,

will you flow with the river or will you fall to your knees?

When all seems lost, don’t be dismayed,

for out of the ashes a new leaf makes way,
for every night there comes a brighter day.

Look outside and hear the children play, for much like humans, they were made.

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