If
Events like a kaleidoscope
Whirling in a flash of colour
Events you never experienced.
Of of these days,
If, maybe.
Famous last words of a broken heart.
Promises to others
Kept always
Promises to yourself
Forgotten
One of these days
If, perhaps
Words worth little but dust.
Time flows for some
It trudges for you
All the ifs begin to pile up
You have little but yourself.
Alone
No one to tell you to EXPERIENCE
To try those ifs
Before it's too late
One of these days,
If, maybe
Words that are excuses
You're old now
Twilight has fallen
But there was never any daylight
You kept your promises to others
But not to yourself
You have no fond memories
To hold the black viel back
One of these days
If, perhaps
Words you lived by
You left room for duty
For responsibility
For work
But not for yourself
Atlas bound, under the planet
A burden that never eased
You never thought
To shrug your load
Faces, you see
All those you never spent time with
Buried under your work, your duty
You never came up for air
Others had lives
You had nothing
No, a shadow of nothing
Work and repression
One of these days
If, perhaps
Words your life was full of
Old now, alone, forgotten
Your kaleidoscope not coloured, but grey
Showing you all the ifs
That should have been whens
All the no's
That should have been yes
There with your ifs
You sit and think
Of a life not lived
This solitary text
The lament you never allowed yourself to say
Instead, you continued
Your ifs your sole companion
In a life not lived.
� Tasha Kahn
