Nowhere, but we are here now
Nothing to do.
No one to see,
and where are we?
No where,
but we are here now.
Now?
That is such a fleeting
time.
Is it a second
or a thought?
Perhaps a kiss
or a wink,
maybe even a slap
or a shot.
What now?
I've woken up with
that saying
scribbled
on my
fore arm
too many
times.
What now?
But, what is now?
I'm not sure,
but I think it
may be the
beating of
our broken
hearts.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world