I saw a sign that read,
"Poems On Demand"
I thought a thought
and quickly quietly said

can you write me a ballad of broken hearts
I'm without a claim to know
I search this wide and foreign land
in hopes to find my home

the river's wide but the drought is near
there's a staleness in the air
I can feel the sun soak through my skin
to warn what was once warm there

and before I could start to turn away
the poet took his pen
he wrote just a simple sentence
to calm the storm within

"I cannot bring her back my friend,
but time is the gift of gods."
I took the paper and read the verse
and transcended into thought.