The clock ticks
Even as we sleep
Time can’t be kept
It can’t hear us weep
We are all doing time
Life…
It’s more than a sentence
More like serving paragraphs
Inside chapters
To a world we’ll
Eventually leave behind
Sometimes I wonder
Will I be worth history?
And then I remember
When I almost was…
Except I would have left
No page to turn
Wouldn’t even have made
Much of an ash if it burned
Then all the tomorrows
I couldn’t afford, but still borrowed…
When it’s really my time
I hope I’ll have paid it all back
Because the gold I was bestowed
Each morning
and the smiles throughout the day
somehow
made the midnight struggles
slip away
and they still do
and there goes the part where I try not to cry
I’m still here with time
And an open suitcase
Full of reasons to be unpacked.
The clock can keep ticking
the moments can leave
I think I'll stay
