Meeting eyes and wishing byes: A poem 

At your loyalties, I culture my levity 

There are no shadows of doubt in my brevity 

I am not cut up at all by adversity 

The lines of my palms are never hasty 

Time will tell what you befriend 

Blood and sweat are the means to an end 

I have placed my cards and had you cautioned 

These secrets are sirens in the wind 

I pity your station for your encumbrances 

But have learnt that relationships are rife with distances 

We meet eyes with different sights and views 

But my time with you, at times, feels like a curfew 

I let you go into your world of anticipation 

Even honesty can be another person’s deception 

I don’t tell you that I’ll always cling to my conviction  

that my little sacrifices are my distinction