When will this start making sense
This life, the way that living goes
You live, you dream, your high, your low
And time is time
Its fast and curveless
When will I have the will once more
To fight this dream, to jump the fence
Over the mountain, beyond the sea
All is a horizon view that’s now not seen
Is the other side really where the grass is green?
I once flew without wings
Back when time wasn’t time or countdown
Now trapped in the view of no perspective
I glance ahead in hope of a sign
Tomorrow will be better than fine.
Why can’t adults grow into kids?
Where whatever our minds want becomes
The energy of a path to dreams
When things are really what they seem
Yes, time is time and all grows old
I’ll hand my dreams to marry my soul
For the past is where my years are young
But I hope I’ll always have the will to run
Beyond the state of accommodation
To the north of my fate’s direction.
(Moara F Lacerda – march 31 2014)