Time’s Gentle Touch by Zara Rabeea

The school bell rings, memories jolt in;

Roaring laughter, shushes in between,

Faded portraits hold secrets within.

Time’s gentle touch, unravelling seams. 

The familiar scent of old books,

The braying of rusted swings,

Big backpacks carrying even bigger dreams.

A worn out shirt, a gift from a loved one,

Broken toys, smashed pinatas,

The warmth of a hug is as sweet as pie.

From grand celebrations to tender grievances,

Mischief still lingers in forgotten corners. 

Beneath every shadow, memories stir,

Of late nights and great chatter,

The sound of excitement laced with apprehension.

Moments flicker like stars—

Lighting paths we no longer walk.