Nostalgia at the Edge of the Road

Today, amidst the city's restless hum,

I caught a glimpse of the past.

A friend and a chapter — we once sat in the same room,

chasing dreams with the same fire.

We crossed paths, yet said nothing.

Perhaps it was time,

or the social gap that now quietly stands between us.

They now walk a wider road,

while I tread slowly on a path lined with stones.

But I know,

God writes each of our stories with a different pen.

I once led,

and now I serve.

And through both,

I've learned the grace of humility.

Life isn’t about who arrives first,

but who keeps moving,

even with weary feet,

even with silent tears.

To my old friend,

though no words were exchanged,

I still send prayers your way.

And to myself,

this journey isn’t over.

There is still hope,

still a reason to keep walking.