They sat on the other ends of the same bench.

Each wanting the other to initiate.

What was lost in all this ego,

All that was left to appreciate.

Time and tide wait for none,

This is the thing we often forget.

When the things have long gone over,

That’s when we come to regret.

All it takes is to open up the heart,

Let it be even a millionth time.

For when it comes to joy of expressing at the right time,

Crying over the spilled milk is not worth even a dime.

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