Now has come the time of day,
When the good little boys go out to play.
And by play I mean work and toil and strain,
To make a living and create gain.
With tired eyes he rises early,
To face the world so bleak and surly.
And goes out to face the day.
He hopes to improve the way,
His family lives.
And so he gives,
His sweat, blood and tears.
He faces many fears,
But never backs down to a single one.
Not till his day is done,
And he can finally return to the sweet embrace,
Of his loving wife and her tender grace.
Everyone is getting married, having babies, having fun.
I can’t even find a girl I like, much less one that likes me.
Sometimes I wonder if I was meant to be a one.
I try to believe love is out there but it’s hard to see,
Even with my mind’s eye.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
I question myself, I don’t know why.
On and on it goes.
My friends march off to the rest of their lives.
I watch as they leave in rows.
One by one they become husbands and wives.
I sit alone,
No longer one of them.
They have moved into a new zone.
I am forced to watch from the rim.
They say there will come a change,
But I no longer know.
The thought goes beyond the range,
That my belief can go.
So I move on myself.
I can’t wait forever.
I will not sit on a shelf.
I march alone towards my own endeavor.