Subject
She called out to
you.
Looked out the window
next to the door.
Will you ever come
back was the thought.
So overcome with
emotion she opened the door.
Lying on the pavement
was my body.
Covered in dirt,
lying on the ground.
As I was lying there,
I wanted to be picked up.
My Father picked me
up in his hands.
Brushed off the dirt
on my face and kissed my forehead.
The sole purpose to
be picked up was to go back.
I wanted to be saved
from my life.
Selfish mortal was I.
Sent back to the
ground, I leaped into the air.
Time has not ended
for me.
Mother in tears
smiled upon me.
Father in the skies
cried for me.
I left grace and
found a new chance.
Time isn’t mine, we
are all subject.
Time is no mans.