As time flies, everything flies with it.
But some things are not meant to be flown. So they stay.
As you are busy counting the freckles
and pretty making you – ‘The You’.
You will slip right past through.
Growing old, perceiving the end.
We are a part of Time’s prophecy
Decaying every rose that you create.
But wait!! Rose comes with thorns,
So there’s something eternal on the plate.
Its a secret box of yours
known only to a few.
And inside it is preserved,
the 14 year old you.
It knows no rules, is foolish.
Yet it can recreate and toss,
every little rose
with time that you lost.
Let bring the wrath Oh! Time!!!
coz, it is in this turmoil,
the 14 year would rhyme.
So everytime you feel low.
Just close your eyes
and open your secret box.
And everytime you chuckle.
you recreate a rose.
Thats when you will find the true you.