A moment is sixty seconds.

Each second holds an eternity.

It only takes a second,

To save the world.

It takes a single second,

To right a wrong.

One minute.

Sixty chances,

To do the right thing.

Sixty chances,

To tell someone,

You love them.

One second to do wrong.

One to apologize.

One for forgiveness.

And fifty-seven,

For rebuilding that relationship,

Stonger than ever.

Sixty friends,

You could make.

Sixty hearts,

You could break.

Each second,

Is worth more,

Than it's weight in gold.

But each second,

Holds so much weight.

There isn't enough gold,

For a single second,

Let alone a minute.

Sixty seconds,

Can be,

The worst mistake,

Of your life.

It can be the best decision.

So much potential.

It seems like such a short,

Amount of time.

But one minute,

Can change a life.

The person you are,

Shifts with each second.

Sixty shifts,

In a minute.

Every minute,

Brings you futher from where,

You started.

In a single minute,

You can see another,

Live or die.

You,

Could live or die.

Each moment is uncertain;

You will not know if you will have another,

Until you have it.

You will not know,

If it is your last,

Until you've had it.

A moment.

Sixty eternities.

Sixty possibilities.

Sixty chances,

To change the world.

Use your moments wisely.

Majority of people would felt the same feeling, more so than myself would ever will. The feeling of when the skin of her hands linked with mine and both of us focused none other than the darkness in the skies. It's a shame there are no stars in the sky tonight, she would say whilst coming closer to my figure. I smiled, closing my mouth from uttering any word that would ruin the moment for the both of us. It's going to be the last time, I thought to myself, as I had the feeling in my guts.

I held her hands even more tightly than before. She noticed what I did, and turned to look at my haze brown eyes. I looked at her back at her sky blue eyes. Her lips were small and her nose was pointed. Her cheeks were plump and her eyebrows were thin. She had wavy black hair, with a single pink straind of hair. "I would never understand on how you fell in love with me. I'm not perfect, far from it. I'm not handsome, like all of your friends, and my friends. I'm not smart, I'm not creative, and my only talent are of writing articles around the fashion industry." My voice was quiet. I'm a failure, I thought.

She came closer to my body, resting her head on my shoulders and putting her hands around my body. Then, without any prior movement, she kissed me on my left cheeks. I couldn't react with anything, expect letting a single tear flowed from my right eye. She didn't say anything afterwards and the both of us held ourselves together even closer for the entire night.

That feeling of reassurance, I guess. I just hope that it would be the last time I had doubts about you. Sadly, most of us aren't that lucky. I could only hope that I could be lucky enough to be the lucky one.

A gasp escapes my lips, hanging in the air

The hum of the engine in the dank morning

A brain with thoughts heavier than frozen lead

The screech of brakes applied too late

Eyes staring and watching the inevitable

The slow crunch of steel as cars collide

"No. You don't care about me!"

"It - it isn't possible."

"You're right. I don't care about you."

"Why would I?"

Today we feel the crushing weight

of broken lives and buried pain

the thorns and lies we’ve held inside

and the emptiness we’ve tried to hide

We take our fill and medicate

and tell ourselves it’s all a game

till we’ve justified anything...

So burn the books and break the frame

gag our souls and hide away

dine on noise, regurgitate

kill silence lest we feel shame,

deep wounds, and hollowed, tender hurts

forget that life is more than mirth...

Until it wears itself away

and all we have is ourselves to face:

The barest beat of emaciated hearts

awaits another fall

we bear our emaciated souls

each upon the pall

and if you look into our eyes

you’ll find

everything dissatisfies.

With eyes cast down lest others see

the tales they tell and tears they bleed,

we tell our lie and say we’re fine

but our wounded heart lies left behind

We put our hope in empty things

in gilded masks and passing dreams

though under all the gold, fear reigns as king

So strike our breasts, wait and see

if our emaciated hearts take up the beat

Bear the pain, ignore the threat;

will our emaciated souls take their last breath?

Then look into our veiled eyes

peer behind the screen of lies:

we still long for what will satisfy.

Shall we reach into that which we fear

to find ourselves not in a mirror

but as we really truly are

the open sores and bleeding scars

the clawing marks which show our part

the anguished din inside our hearts

for grasping after shallow, pale pleasure

in the stead of joy beyond all measure

Is emaciation form for our flesh,

this emaciation our soul's true best?

Are our eyes to see eternal loss

no return for everlasting cost?

Or shall we step at last into the silence,

nor run from it in fear of violence

done upon our already broken hearts

silence having been tasked to carve

the suffering before we heal, price already paid,

for firstly every heart must break

for it to be remade.