The sun has risen.
Another night past.
Staring at this blank box
Wondering what to write
Doubtful as I am you will find this,
It needs to be right.
The truth seems to lack in taste.
A story seems ill in good faith.
My poems too blunt,
My words too vague.
Years spent in search of words.
Yet I've found none worthy.
I'm a victim of time.
It just never stops
I think I'll find the words,
If you're patient you'll see.
Maybe by our next life,
I'll be a master of words.
Words spoken over again.
I'll be more prepared.
For that I'm sure.
I hope some time you'll know,
Just how far you pushed me to grow.
You were important to me.
And forever you'll be.
On my death bed,
There will be thanks to you.
And if I may pass before you,
Maybe I'll have had the time to find the words.
Surely in my will.
If not then the next time we meet.