I often wish that I will live;

A life that’s long but also kind.

But on this hill, or in our hallway,

I feel time change; it stays behind.

My mind expands, but then contracts,

I’ve stood here now, for far too long.

I missed that future which I never had,

I lost my past in which I did no wrong.

I often wish to become old,

But a life that’s long, can become cold.

I mourn my loves before they’re gone,

And pray for time to move along.

Now down the hill, or past the hall,

all is well, and life is long.

But time is strange, so I march on.