I stand before the robust shore

and wonder if I’ll swim

I reach out as far as I can see

and still the light is dim

I hold my hand for someone else

to grasp it and abscond

yet is it time that has run out

or excitement that’s beyond

Beyond foresight and foreboding

a life yet to feel the rain

the thunder speaks only to me

and declares without refrain

It says beware of what’s out there

and what you’re yet to live

it’s only wanton solitude

that speaks to what one gives

It speaks not – of funds transferred

but of sentiment and rhyme

the harbour’s night is glistening

and announces; it is time

Time to free a life stripped bare –

one needs to generate

a cavalcade of merriment

and declare it’s not too late

Too late to say; I share your day

and sleep throughout your night

and turn to see just you and me

in the world we call delight.

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