Seasons come and go, you sit by the radio
Finish your coffee, but the bottom doesn’t show
The world is outside the window
Your world is deep within
One day, maybe
One day, maybe, it’ll begin

Where am I supposed to go
And what should I take
Do I bring the things I’ll never need
Or ingredients to bake
I’ll know when I get there, but by then…
It’ll be too late
It’ll be too late

Reading the paper, you soak in all the words
Fill in the crossword, you’re smarter than all the nerds
Be a rain drop among the puddles
But only when you cry
One day, maybe
One day, maybe, it’ll dry

What am I supposed to show
And what am I supposed to tell
Sit around on the carpet and hope it all goes well
If I could only decide which side to hide
And who will see the rest
Then I’ll get some rest
Then I’ll get some rest

When the sun is my watch, what will make it turn
When the moon is my crutch, who will stand next to me
When the water runs out, will my reflection run in
When my mind is made up, what could bring me down
When will that be, when will that be
Because the seasons come and go with an empty chair by the radio
Finish my breakfast, there is no morning joe
Skimming the paper, the words dry up you see
Solving the crossword, I get stuck at number three
But it’s only me, it’s only me.

About Paul

I think of my blog as an all-you-can-read buffet. There's something for everyone and complimentary mints at the door as you leave.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Alarm

  1. Little Rants says:

    PROOF that Paulo never sleeps.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ely says:

    I’m running out of comments for your poetry! Because it’s so damn GREAT!!!!! Just great!!! Love!

    Liked by 1 person

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