Late

Late With fire hands I set alight, The thoughts inside my empty mind, All in the hope that I will find, The word’s to make this poem become alive. Electricity runs through my head And ignites a stream of do not forgets. Must create art and not just jest. No longer say, just do. No more chances to procrastinate; There is no time left… I have too much I need to show to you. Seize opportunity before it is gone; It knocks on my door like a dying swan song. A cry for more, a shout for an encore; I can no longer tell what is mine and what is yours. We are united by words, divided in time. You are so far ahead of the curve and I am so far behind, But with a telescopic eye, I see a future. Where I once was a cyclops, I must concentrate on not being blind. But rise I shall to face this day. A face to face, when I have the lines to say; But I will never be perfect, Because I am already too late. (C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.