2/100: On Time
Built in air perhaps,
A bit crowded too, with all people of the past
But one I can't get out of.
Time is also my dear old friend,
Like a suitcase that travels along,
With all photos and moments, and a familiar smell,
One I can't ever get rid of.
Time feels like a running train
I was let in without a pass,
I have to get off when it stops
But there may still be a long way to go.
Then, time is the place I go to,
To become a bunch of moments perhaps,
And to end up in someone else's suitcase,
May be her, who loved me.