PRISONER OF TIME 1 © 2007

Godfather, once the blessing

Was, in respect, greater,

A gesture that carried tradition,

A symbol of honour and love.

Now, the extending of the hand

Is empty, soulless, without warmth,

Reverence has been lost in the action,

As if it were just a favour.

Respect, once sacred,

Is now merely formality,

And the gesture, which was once honoured,

Is done out of simple convenience.

The extending of the hand is no longer a blessing,

It is to avoid spitting on the ground,

And what was once a strong bond,

Has become an act without emotion.

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