Late in the night; whispering walls and floorboard creaks,
my fingertips gently brush dust off a mirror.
Carefully I scrub and shine until there’s no specks or streaks,
yet the reflection doesn’t grow any clearer.
I know time will only march on,
but I both dread and long for the dawn.

Awoken abruptly from a thirty year slumber,
realization slaps me swift in the face.
I find myself now wishing I was thirty years younger,
I’ll still finish last but I could restart the race.
I know time will only march on,
but where has all that time gone?

Alone in this world; what a terrible thing,
the only company provided is loneliness and nicotine.
I look to my hands knowing I could never wear a ring,
even if I could it would fall off as I grow older and more lean.
I know time will on march on,
but I forgot the song for the swan.

The people and places in the journey of life
have shaped me into a person I forgot I could be,
and while I may be comfortable, I’ve known my share of sadness and strife,
and you know the two both also know me.
I know time will only march on,
but why play chess to only be a pawn?

Late in the night, I light candles and sage,
though the shadows will remain in the corner.
Youth is wasted on the young, I’m halfway done at my age,
and I’ve spent most of my life as a mourner.
I know time will only march on,
and my breath will be used just to yawn.