Wishing Well

In your innocence,

you wish with good intentions.

When will this minute pass?

When will this hour end?

When will this week be over?

When will this month go by?

But, when will it be time to live at last?

Sometime soon, our time will end.

And we’ll have nothing to remember as we fade.

Our hands will strain for another minute.

Our limbs will reach for just one more day.

And our molten hearts will leak hot from our mouths as we pretend,

that everything’s ok.

We never let ourselves be beautiful in our own eyes.

Our baby skin and our baby hearts have long gone.

Why did we spend a lifetime wishing for more, wishing well, and hating what was drawn?

And we’re scared of never being able to love ourselves.

Now it’s too late and our skin is dead, our hands are limp and our eyes are rust.

And our leathery old skin will turn to dust.

It will be too late by the time you know,

we were wishing our time away and we forgot to let our baby skin glow.

We will regret never feeling the heart beat of a lover

or taking just one moment in a lifetime to discover

the comfort of crying on a shoulder and being protected,

while telling a secret to a stranger, soon connected.

You wished your time away

and now you're stuck hoping for just one more day.