IT ALWAYS COMES BACK

Poetry Picnic

d'Verse poets Pub

And we talked about time

and how we sometimes wish

we could get past the unmomentous moment

but that's just willing ourselves

one step closer to death

but we never see it that way

we just want to be nearer to that

which makes us feel more alive

And Time

you smirking sack of shit

I study your face as you perform

your sleight of hands

and when the big one's on twelve

and the little one's on eight

I've come full circle again

heading out the door in a groundhog daze

and all this picture needs

is Sonny and Cher

singing "I Got You Babe"

And the hands of time keep circling

like vultures around 
my fledgling schemes

but time is well spent

when one's well spent

and I try to think of what

I'm supposed to be thinking

but it always comes back to you

and every song on the radio

has already read my mind

this much I know is true

you make me feel brand new

I say a little prayer for you...

And Time

you old gypsy man

just once I'd like to land

a swift kick to your cojones

as a token of appreciation

for dragging me down

this one way street

And I think I know what it is...

it's this feeling of being alive

that's so heady and bittersweet

Spinning into a moment

that spits in Time's face

like a fortune cookie that reads:

You are living in an eternity...

the time to be happy is now