How shall I finish, how shall I start,
Is it always fair to follow matters of the heart?
In the clutches of passion,
to stay buried while the whole world collapses,
would be foolish in a fleeting moment passing.
I’m counting on people now,
I couldn’t count on then,
When will I learn?
I could do it all, but I’m not the only soul with a pen.
Let it go, that’s what I tell myself,
get to work,
and put those other books on the shelf.
The road less traveled seems like a waste of time,
because there is none for all these rights and lefts,
where are you to follow through on what I suggest?
Forget it man, I’m not going back to bed,
I’m awake now and blazing the trail ahead.
And what about love?
what would I do if push came to shove?
She’ll be waiting there when I get home,
If it’s real, but if not,
I shall finish alone.