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Subject

 

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.

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