Someday I’ll be a watchmaker,
Who crafts the hands of time.
Shaped by steady labor,
Fulfilled by each design.

Someday I’ll meet the one who turns
My hours into gold.
Our time will tick — a flicker that burns,
With love both bright and bold.

Someday I’ll feel a happiness,
That keeps in step with time.
Each grain of sand falls into place,
As if each moment were mine.

Today I am no watchmaker,
The hours pass me by.
I hold no hands and give no time,
No joy remains inside.

But someday,
I'll make the time...