Time does not heal a thing.

All those wise types with comforting

Voices in soft, sympathetic tones,

Declaring the magic of time.

Well, they lie.

Time heals nothing much.

Time is not magic.

It is what it is. An invention.

If the wound is scratched often enough,

Day by day-

How can anything heal?

The scab picked at, mithered over,

Almost healed. Pretending to heal.

Itching from underneath.

If you are lucky, the damage site does not spread,

You are left with a scaly silver streak that once wept

A blot that time only teases at.

A constant reminder, but mocking time.

Deceptive, aching, viscious time,

Does not really heal a thing.