The afternoon no longer looms
though I implore it to linger.
For I have lost much within this day -
to give voice to song as a singer.
I used to croon a noise or two
converging whichever hearts enthused.
Within all of that I never knew
it would leave me just like a binger
As youth rescinds and reputes its glaze
as its glories fog and then just fades
you slip and slide into the place
that waits in-between shadow and shade.
No certainty what it is I made
or what it was I was willing to trade
from moment to moment and day to day
to earn my feeble state.
I have come to see that what is me
sees much of this not as you see.
For I express it as I feel
in terms so few can relate.
My expressions take on twists and turns
so fit that they escape you,
and then leaving you vaguely confused
and unsure of just what my point is.
And just as well as it may be
Iím expressing something that novel to me
is something that youíve already seen,
no longer espousing that it has gleam.
Is that because my mind is slow
and so much new, most already know
or that I find it delightful and so,
I feel it, and oblige to express it.