By Saara Mathur
Do you sell time?
I need to give it to my ageing parents,
To the lieutenants on the battlefield,
And a beautiful soul that's broken
And needs it to heal it's shattered remains.
Do you sell lives?
For an innocent soul wanders about,
Wishing to live the life they threw away at the slightest ache,
Oh, how they wish to come back,
Be with the family that weeps from the pain.
Do you sell hearts?
For I know someone who accidentally found theirs weary and broken,
I know someone who lost theirs and found it in the hands of someone they could never have,
I know someone who left theirs in the cold and now it's frozen,
I know someone who pretends to never have gotten one,
Who claim to be God's least favourites.
Do you sell innocence?
For the buds who lost theirs as they sprouted into flowers
That died ever too soon,
Five year olds without support,
Their sweet faces in freezing colds without coats
For they've lost the ones who'd buy it for them.
Do you sell happiness? Sadness? Love? Respect?
Or have you run out of stock?
Who bought them,
And wasted them all,
Without knowing how much we'd need them now?
I've lived in a world of despair too long,
Whispered sorrows and tears about to fall,
Having run out of ways to fall after attempted climbs,
I ask you again,
Do you sell time?