Time
Of all the agents that can heal,
all worthy of a rhyme
None can lend their mercy,
like good Father Time.
One may see a therapist,
and take some pill or potion,
But only Time can obscure
the pain in hurt emotions
Memories soon become remote,
and present goes to past,
Time exerts its mystical powers,
of healing that will last.
When the seconds tic away,
and moments lead to years,
Let us thank our good Father Time,
for the drying of our tears.