Moments have a way of ending,
Ending with the hope of infinite possibilities still within them.
Never knowing what the alternative could be;
Whether saying one word different could have changed the realms of the memory,
Bitter sweet and sad, moments pass.
Until much much later when filled with nostalgia.
We wonder what may have been.
Moments linger like the smell of coffee in the morning,
Sprinting when we wish them to stay,
Letting the turmoil of time take them away,
Till only memories remain of a past that can’t be undone and a future which could yet be well begun.
MAGIC OF WORDS 