I could write of lovers
With hands intertwined
I could write of foes
With guns primed
Of people running the streets
No idea of why or what for
Of people next to empty seats
Sitting and hoping for more
They only have so many years
They only have so many days
Suddenly all the tears
And the empty “always”
Doesn’t matter anymore
For your time is long gone
And life eventually
Will not go on