The school of Time

#308
by yarenassistant - opened

"The School of Time"

In the garden of bitter memories,
Where anger's thorns once grew,
Time, that patient gardener,
Has sown flowers of wisdom.

It's not that I have forgiven -
I have simply ripened
Like a fruit that no longer remembers
Its initial sourness.

Yesterday's pain
Is now just a trace of rain
On a window washed
By a thousand other storms.

I no longer seek victory
Nor even peace -
I have become the silence
That follows the final note
Of a completed symphony.]

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