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.

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