My visions died on me, and I heard, ''Wake up to reality! ''
I was powerless to fly: my angel buddy took back my wings.
The last thing I glanced at was some vague faceless entity
Telling me, ''You still have to wait till the fat lady sings.''
If I did buy time from the reaper to fly a rescue mission,
First off, I'd glue the broken hearts to feel alive once more.
If I rode shotgun with you like an invisible apparition,
Could my 20/20 hindsight undo harm I blindly did before?
Both sinners and saints, we are like bashful dead-end kids
Unable to tame our demons before they try to possess us.
While getting older and defenceless, with our health on the skids,
We apply to the angels for a divine blessing and a gentle caress.
Aram Stefanian
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hindsight-5/
