RMC

Time has swept away,

all that I would think again one day.

I remember Decembers,

and the games I loved I used to play.

In youth fantasy is born

and I’m reminded by scars I’m torn.

I don’t want to impede

my needs with my want my scorn.

Haze of beautiful lips I miss,

But rather than the sway of curved hips

I’d rather rest assured in a bed

warm where my failures aren’t on lips.

I want laughter here now

and in the beautiful there-after

I want to meet my God how

I want to without a soul’s disaster.

My senses rush to me

now in such beautiful clarity.

I don’t want leave behind

what I take with me to eternity.

That’s why I do not regret

doing the will of righteous thoughts.

I know what is right and wrong

not what time has forgot.

The haze I was put in

hearkens me to rebel and sin,

But now my dear sweet friend

age has made me love sober thoughts and logic again.