Begging Father Time

A half-life or a certain number of years close to it

it took that much to realize,

To “Stand tall” can’t do anything much

for the winds will come for us —

for those who dare to stand against it.

For the ground we are in is already theirs,

for there is nothing in here we could claim;

to be rightfully ours. But, there is always this; But

“But” is different for each of us —

But we can take the given time to try things,

to always see life through.

No-no, not on doses an alternative offers,

“But through.”

But we can reach out and give more even if we think we have nothing,

for all is abundant of a thing that another lacks.

But we can be humble and ask for help,

to find it as long as we can.

We seldom win in the Game where the only real tool is hope.

We can do everything and be anything if we have hope.

We can do nothing without it.

It is not enough but a start.

One day, may we not rush into it.

It will come for us.

On that day, on that spot where all hope is taken

either a full acceptance and fulfillment of executing actions or

dwell more in that short final misery — that we have lived.

We are given time. Much that we forget to make the most out of it.

This here, right now — it is already a gift.

Today I am still not in that spot — yet, I still have hope.

Father Time took everything away but time.

I dream but my dream is not already mine.

It is mine but it is not for me.

The only clear hope I hold onto,

somehow, my dream could live on with those I’ll leave behind.

On my knees. Palms together.

Now is our gift.