Oh- yes, the night proceeds; <br />And it is a haughty night, <br />And not everything will succeed through it- <br />The wind tunnels I can only make it halfway <br />Through to Christmas- <br />I can’t even finish this thought- <br />And I want you as if I was Mark Twain cherishing <br />The cheapest tobaccos, <br />And now I have nothing left to sing- Maybe I am <br />Being rude, <br />Or maybe accept me as your king. <br />Right now I am letting the mosquitos drink my blood, <br />My scars, my chances, <br />But I am really wanting you- <br />Erin, or anything: I am not doing good- I’ve written <br />A book and I am homeless and no one cares, <br />And I wanted you for a thousand reasons hundreds of <br />Thousands of yesterdays ago, <br />But even in high school you were reintroducing me <br />To your newer me, <br />And I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror <br />When I skip classes and stole into things <br />Hundreds of thousands of years ago.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hundreds-of-thousands-of-years-ago/
