Time
Sometimes it seems so immense, and I wonder if I'll ever have enough worth-while things to do to fill it. And I fear that someday
I may
run
out.
I don't know if the thought is as poetic as it feels. But until I ascertain an acceptable answer, I shall be attempting to transcend my bedroom as I gaze at its ceiling, waiting for the Big T to fall in all its glory into my outstretched arms. Or something like that.
I may
run
out.
I don't know if the thought is as poetic as it feels. But until I ascertain an acceptable answer, I shall be attempting to transcend my bedroom as I gaze at its ceiling, waiting for the Big T to fall in all its glory into my outstretched arms. Or something like that.