Pulled from the stories of others like me
who lived better lives, better told;
I see my reflection in store windowpanes,
the face that looks back has grown old.
Why am I leaning so hard on today
while forgetting the fact of tomorrow?
Your yesterday folded my brain inside out,
retuned disbelief into sorrow.
We need to look it in the face
before our colors fade;
I surely do intend to keep
the promises that I made.
I try to smile as your time passes by me,
and wonder as mine slips away;
are you thinking the same things as I am
or do you really have nothing to say?
The signals that you might be sending
are encoded too much to be read,
by the time I can figure their meaning
we both might as well be dead.
So goodbye, you will always have a small place
in a heart grown erratic now, irregularly timed.
A tearless smile trying to disguise a sad face
pretended joy I will likely never find.