Last night the boy was thirteen
This morning he is thirty
To look out of his window
Asking ‘where did the days go?’
Like pages of an open book
Turned by the wind.
But that is truth and that is life
To sleep a child and wake a man
My shoes have lost their floors
And my eyes riot from looking
But till I find you, I will
Worry many more maps,
Scourge many more miles
And dissect a thousand more smiles.
I will find you.
It might take a day
perhaps another decade
But I will find you…