Late


With fire hands I set alight,
The thoughts inside my empty mind,
All in the hope that I will find,
The word’s to make this poem become alive.


Electricity runs through my head
And ignites a stream of do not forgets.
Must create art and not just jest.
No longer say, just do.
No more chances to procrastinate;
There is no time left…
I have too much I need to show to you.


Seize opportunity before it is gone;
It knocks on my door like a dying swan song.
A cry for more, a shout for an encore;
I can no longer tell what is mine and what is yours.


We are united by words, divided in time.
You are so far ahead of the curve and I am so far behind,
But with a telescopic eye, I see a future.
Where I once was a cyclops, I must concentrate on not being blind.


But rise I shall to face this day.
A face to face, when I have the lines to say;
But I will never be perfect,
Because I am already too late.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.