Memories misplaced, relentless they emerge,
Like overgrown weeds, a pain they surge.
Within my heart, a bleeding hole resides,
The remedy lost, nowhere to confide.

Once whole, now burdened by this deep abyss,
Gripping my soul with an ache that persists.
Yearning for restoration, art as my guide,
Time, it's your moment, let healing coincide.

For time, they say, mends wounds so profound,
Not merely masking, but true healing renowned.
So, let the hands of time weave their gentle art,
Stitching together the fragments of my wounded heart.

With each passing moment, with patience and care,
Grant me the solace of a heart repaired.
Time, show your power, let healing commence,
Revive my spirit, restore my lost sense.

For in your embrace lies the balm to soothe,
The remedy sought, the salve to improve.
Heal these wounds, as only you can impart,
Time, fulfill your purpose, mend this broken heart.