: "Do you have some time for me?"
: "No, I don't.
My life span is too short
To spare some time for you."
: "You're true.
But have you read your pulse lately?
Have you sat down quietly
To see your reflection in the mirror?
Do you see what you haven't seen before?
... colours?
... shades?
... shades and colours?
... unspoken words of the silence?
... or moments that's never gonna come back again?"
: "I don't want to think about those!"
: "Again true.
The choice is yours.
Blood stream rushes up my veins,
To my neurons,
Lodges silent mutiny against myself,
Breaking me down into dusts, bits, molecules,
For I can't deny my beliefs in a single day.
But the dusts reform again,
And when they do
They urge... would you let me borrow some of your time?
... please?
Thanks."
