On the walls hang, mirrors that mime

The grainy images of shifting time

The past depicts a picture old
Of strokes unsteady and light
Life viewed in plain black or white
One of immense immaturities
and  inane oddities

Three quarters of the body made up of tears
Emptied over some thirty odd years
At times like a trickle or at times like a flood
Salt and water depleted from blood

The heart pulsed erratic
Thoughts turned eccentric

Soon I learned to find solutions
To life’s cryptic equations
An addition here, a subtraction there
Little adjustments everywhere

The future saw  life unfold
painted with strokes steady and bold
Life showcasing many a crease
The portrait though is very much at ease

There are no fears and no salty tears
Knowing that life is on a short lease
With the world, now I am at peace