Life is moving so quickly,
art seems to have won

I somehow slipped back in
While trying to engage in pursuits
more rewarding

The creating owns me
but outside of the ecstasy of it
it pays off nothing
but missed chances

The loneliness is crazy
it's magnitude is absurd

It's what it had to be
Maybe,
but I'm getting old
with no family....

fading and alone I put my face in my hands, wondering if there is still time for anything.

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