I missed our fights, Dark hours and endless nights, And finally, our poetic moments If time could return, I would choose you even harder, Etching you deeper into the core of my soul
Youth is wasted on the young Life on the living Always imparted by the old And ghosts unforgiving Quantify waste You smunt! The arch criticism Of the lacking What was it? Did your time run out Just as you was packing?
She was set to wander Born to learn Over many Lifetimes Reinventing Anew You know? Like the Highlander Only this being true Once Sumerian Now suburbanite Holds the knowledge Of all She thinks she'll Get off of this planet A bit before The fall.