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A glance is enough for the heart to beat
to transform naivety into shrewdness
of some kind, many long for it in the ancient past
to moisten their dry parched youth, as the case
it never befalls where it ought to, yearnings
fossilized froze in the corner of heart, birds
never chirp on the skeletal trees, insects don’t
dwell in the deceased fallen barks, dimpled
cheek cupids doesn’t appear for those who
always wait and sigh, no ballads are sung
on the onset of youth, nor a tear on its passing,
some do age without the grace of a glance
and leave the grim world still longing for
one glance.