Disappearance, is sudden
Of time in the present
We’re left trailing
Clutching old thoughts
Hoping time reappears
We survive by seeking
Scouring fields we sow
For their elusive roots
But the present leaves none
It is a one-act play
Swings of the needle
Complete the circle
The face of a clock
Warns of disappearance
Each stealthy movement
Erases precious moments
We live as if that’s untrue
Putting faith in our appearance
It’s the face, of disappearance

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Niranjan Seshadri

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