K

We're not getting younger as hours pass by
turning fruitful days and chaotic weeks
and hectic months steadily unfold to blessed years
of wisdom turned despair, turned back to wisdom, the least
So why not take the chance to ever fall in love again
with the same person over and over and over again
Is it because words became a routine to your door
or is it that his ways could not swoon you anymore
Let my eyes tell you as I touch your face
play with your hair, hold your neck, and feel your lips
that though I'm referring to is myself
right from the start of what I have been writing
we're not really the same person as well
Come, take my hand, I'm taking you somewhere
a place we could reminisce before my grave starts to rot
and though in dreams I thrive, and that I have perished
let me vanquish your anguish and replenish you, Irish.