Was it night, when I met you?
I didn’t quite see your face,
Nor was I able to sense that
Blood did not run in your veins.
I am certain you didn’t know it pains
To be made of flesh and blood,
As your nerves of steel,
Handled me in such a way
That it broke my body of clay.
Who knows what time it was?
Who cares if it was night or day?
You have left no glimmer or ray.
© Jaspreet Mann. Flashback (2011). All Rights Reserved.