one season.

there we were,
bidding goodbyes,
waving hands,
and be a faithful doer

of living differently
of loving each other completely
of liking some objects contrastly
under one unity

that when it begins to wear thin
no, it never fades away
instead it remains like it has always been
and gratefully does not even date by a single day

gone maybe those tacky lines
the past bears irreconcilable stupefying minds

and yet there's always something to look forward to
within a month or two

or more than what regulars might think in their contrived thoughts

there we will be,
another bids,
another waves,
another miss-you glee,

another time.
again.