I am a prisoner,
Locked up within these four walls.
I can't escape now,
All on my own waiting for the fall.
I do, I do, I do write....

Darling dont go because I want you,
I can explain why cause I need to be,
To be with you....

Time is of a mystery,
Decries an obligutary pleading to a longevity in life of who, where and what may become of it!
Some are lucky,
Some are not be known!
It's not what you know,
It's who you know,
That influence of your wellbeing giving you structure and belief,
Not costing you a pretty penny or to become a thief!
In this moment in time,
Reflection takes an art form of imagination but no takers just,
That life of procrastination!
The people you meet upon that humble street,
Either extra's or destiny spectre's,
Nine times out of ten nothing changes that co-exists and arranges pain!
Or that one in a million that follows that path where dreams are made of!

Three more lines of frustration, that dither and delay obliterates and forgotten, That life of procrastination.

O'Reily 24112019