Scene at the streets

Everyday I pass by people
young and old, gay and frown
over-possessed with material encores
losing themselves in the rhythm divine.

There is hope, there is grief
more often that not, wrinkles speak
There is beauty, there are looks
beneath amazing facades, undisclosed crooks.

There are niggles and giggles
and innocence sparkling colors around
and there is silence, a profound one
reinforcing the authority of time.

Beneath every face is a happy child
superimposed by a worried man
yet, the eyes twinkle like the stars at twilight
refusing to give to up to the towering claims.

Life’s taken its toll on humanity
its time we understand whats right
maybe not for our own sake
but for those who are yet to arrive.