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But do I meander? Did I have to say Something to someone Somewhere in time, Do I run away? I had made it habit To lull myself with tales Of glory, that will never be, Now time is running out. It will soon be dawn, The morning wind Will remind me Of debts I will not repay, Shorelines I should have touched Sails tucked in, Like a well behaved boat, Groomed in poetic forms. I need not have smoked, Or heard the sounds Of melting ice In an empty glass. Or held hands in the park, Smelt the ocean, Wept with War and Peace. Now I blame the rules For not keeping track, I blame the froth For the foam in my head, And crumbling plaster On bathroom walls. The ants taught me To march in single file, But I never learnt.