Time

At three I was a prodigy, at four no more I guess
By five or six my days were mixed

The days gone by are super clear
I know it doesn’t rhyme my dear,
Let’s not discuss
The obvious.

I know I’m not a poet, I never said I was
I said was a prodigy I note without apology

It’s just that life slips on its way, and I stand by because

I wonder what I should have done
To turn the tide, survive the run
To capture days in rain and fun
To frolic in the leaves of sun.

I never saw it coming, though I guess it always does
Another day before my feet
Another flower a sly defeat
Another triumph cleat by cleat

With fuzz and buzz and dilemmas