Now and then

I walk with you freely but you must ignore my limp,
I ran too fast as a child and the damage I live with.

I’m not sure why you ask; but I believe it was worth it.

I saw the world whilst you dreamt and now I savour its beauty.

It has probably made me a look a little older for my age, no?
I can live with this;
it gives me character, no?
 
The simple things in life I adore,
A cool night,
And smoke rings made that last into the stars.
 
Reading about the Berlin wall whilst listening to Simon and Garfunkel,
I hate the way I well,
But not well enough to cry.
 
I got a knife one time – serrated it was,
He he..it does still make me laugh as the inexpensive cut of tickling anger made worse by sawing,
My hand.
 
Cry for help...noooooo, cry to leave me alone,
A message for me and you,
War paint some would say
 
Rest assured when there was no more hate. I left, I teetered,
Tho’ rising from the dead I learnt; to not to hate more,
But better.