I am the broken promise
of what might have been
and the desperate hope
of what could still be;
nothing is written
with such permanence
it cannot be altered
by a willingness to change;
the clock continues to count time,
until it stops
there will always be a chance
to become more
a struggle to begin,
a question
of where to start;
where is the world,
start there
the place is not ideal
begin there anyway,
meet the world
where it is,
the search for the perfect time and place
will lead to a lifetime
of empty dreams
