Oh how I wonder a world

Where life isn’t measured by the steps you take,

The days you wake,

Or the excuses you make.

Oh how I wonder a place where you and I,

Can go, can grow together without the overwhelming question,

“Do I dare?”

My life is measured out,

But not in the moments that my breath is seized,

Nor the times my heart skips a beat,

Nor the time spent under the moonlight, with you.

No, please don’t ask, “Why?”

I know it’s because I’ll lie.

As I walk along deserted streets, I see turtle doves,

Over my shoulder, two women talking of their five true loves.

I’m in the life where my time is measured in the coffee that’s dispersed,

Walking empty streets through time unrehearsed, so cursed, so bland.

Saying to myself, “there will be time” and “there will be time again”.

But when is the time? After long sunsets or long hours of work?

When is the time? After I grow old and drift away like dust?

So young am I,

Supposedly I have time,

But the time not disturbing the universe is… what time?

Yet supposedly I have time…

No, why can’t you see?

I’m no Michelangelo,

Hamlet, Lazarus or Poe!

You see my days; they’re laid out in tea!

As I walk along deserted streets, I see

Such blasphemy…

Everyone looking toward me,

Like ravens stalking their prey.

I’m so young… I’m so old…

Do I take your hand and frolic along the beach?

Or sit upon a bench, listening to the birds flee

From me…

Do I sit away from you and glance?

Despite that I waste another chance

Before my decrepit self washes away,

With the tide?

You say there will be time,

When is the time?