The Missing

Time drags on, another day gone, another plane crashed, another dead laugh, and yet there is more missing, missing in time, in life, in dreams, It seems like perhaps I am the one who is missing, my dreams, my hopes, my ambition, my mission to be happy in what I do, I will live an go another day and miss another note, and tie another lace, and ride untill I choke, I will be missing untill the time calls me back, to relax,and perhaps reveal that I was kidnapped, not missing just snatched from the life I wanted, but untill then I am the missing. Jonathan Manuel Munoz Copyright ©2007 Jonathan Manuel Munoz