Poetry by Tim Windisch

One last try


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One last try

It was the kind of day, where sun shone bright, but inside he felt a  chill, no he couldn’t get right

He’s wondering about tomorrow, fumbling through today, but then maybe again it was last night

Why in the world can’t he get warm? Aching and lamenting, “my arthritis says it’s going to storm”

Sometimes he’s right, mostly feels wrong, world spins faster, feels like he’s falling behind the norm

Isolated from a time when things made sense, when decisions were solid, no sitting on the fence

Despite the effort he invested, it just seems like he’s never going to reap his just recompense

I feel like the last guest on Carson, clipped cause they ran out of time

No one will ever know about me, well damn it seems like such a crime

So many plans in my mind, babe it’s where they seem to begin and die

But still I suck it up and tells myself, I came this far, I’ll give it one last try

Sunglasses, scratched from lying on the floor, buried under empty cups from the convenience store

Time was when he was worried about looking the part, but lately he don’t seem to care no more

He wonders, as he’s waiting for the light to turn green, horn behind blows and he clears the scene

Maybe things won’t be so bad, maybe he’s jumping to conclusions; worrying so, what does it mean

A little bit of our very favorite old fashioned, cool the fires, yet light the flames of my passion

But the absence of completion steals both the light and the relief as daylight comes crashin’

I feel like the last guest on Carson, clipped cause they ran out of time

No one will ever know about me, well damn it seems like such a crime

So many plans in my mind, babe it’s where they seem to begin and die

But still I suck it up and tells myself, I came this far, I’ll give it one last try

I ain’t about to toss in my towel or go waving a flag, everything hurts being alone babe it’s a drag

Honey I ain’t ever going to stop believing in the day I see you walking in the door carrying your bag

Reasons keep coming faster than lightning, keeping us from our nirvana and babe it gets frightening

We got too many loose screws that need tightening, or is it just a lack of something enlightening

By simply  putting our minds together, we can make the

adjustments despite any kind of weather

Hand in hand the heaviest burdens that keep weighing us down, babe would be light as a feather

I feel like the last guest on Carson, clipped cause they ran out of time

No one will ever know about me, well damn it seems like such a crime

So many plans in my mind, babe it’s where they seem to begin and die

But still I suck it up and tells myself, I came this far, I’ll give it one last try

Honey we ain’t quittin now, let’s give it one last try

And if that don’t work, we’ll give it one last try

Till it does, get it? I love you babe

Tim Windisch

05/10/2024

 

 

 

 

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Poetry by Tim WindischBy Tim Windisch