I’m lost and lonely in this place,
Burrowing through the earth of forgetfulness
And making weary, slow steps
Through the unending maze
Of sadness and lingering regrets.
If we could find ourselves again
On childhood streets,
Recreate our innocence and sweetness,
Our hopes and dim eyes would resurrect
Like an Easter sunrise.
Meet me there, the old bakery
Sending the scent of apple pie
Through the city,
It’s not too late, it’s not too late
To become our true selves
And keep the promises we made to each other.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-not-too-late/
