art X of Omitting My Confessions
dear father time,
I hope you don't mind,
but I'm thinking ahead,
to days far in my future.

And I'm pretty scared,
for what these days might hold
the futures not looking well,
its looking sick and dead instead.

So I'm begging you,
to look after me now.
I may not be bright,
but I want to survive this.

Christmas is a shadow,
cast from this store window.
I'm seeing happy families,
that don't mirror my own.

I want to find love,
I want a safe, and loving home.
Maybe I've got that,
I'm just feeling so alone.

But I'm praying anyways,
I'm praying harder than ever before.
I've got a hope for better tomorrows,
I've got hope there's something left.

So please father time,
save me from more yesterdays,
that loom as ghosts,
of bitterly dark times...

And I'm hoping that,
you won't mind father time,
but I'm thinking ahead,
to days far in my future.