So many hours
wasted on wishing,
wasted on wanting,
regret.
Frivolous harmonies
don't change
the bass line,
a hand doesn't change
with the bet.
So many hours
used to convince
this restless heart
to be still,
so many prayers
lifted up to
the night sky,
but Providence moves
when it will.
So many hours
revisiting memories,
adding the words
left refrained.
So many hours,
wasted on wishing,
when only
so many hours
remain.
No comments:
Post a Comment