We could've loved in a different time
If someone wrote us in a different novel
A different, Universe-dictated
Never-inclusive, story line
In a time where men wore pocket watches and coattails
And women petticoats and corsets
With heir-to-the-mansion blue eyes
Straight out of Pride & Prejudice
Possibly when novels were written by typewriters and gas lights
I'd be spitting my thoughts onto paper in the nearly dark
Just like I am--like I do--now, I suppose
And maybe then you could've won my heart
Or a time when man thought they could reach God
When men first invented God, and heaven, and flight
Some wondering if they even should
But my God, you're that wanna-be, enlightenment-thinker type
Maybe when guns spoke instead of words
And someone like me had to work until the moon said goodnight
Watching for your tired figure in my doorway
Hoping you'd make it home alright
What about the era of free love?
Your hair could be longer, and certainly curlier, than mine
Those freckles telling a thousand iridescent stories
Around the crackling firelight
But not here, not now, and not anytime soon
Because in this century we are too far apart
Maybe we collided too late
And we should've been 19th century art
Star-crossed loves with fate worse than death
Soulmates, some nonsense meant-to-be
But maybe that wouldn't have been so bad
It's just not open eyes or reality
And maybe that's because of me
We could've loved in a different time
If I had written a better, Universe-dictated novel
With a different, never inclusive story line
Just now recognizing that "maybe" is definitely used as my crutch. Only used it four times here, I think? Anyone else have a crutch word? Just me? Cool.
