I sat around while the clock ticked
Thirty six years old
I’m counting down
Another month, another year
I’ve wasted too much time
In misery and dismay

An old man’s bones,
A brain that never rests,
Something rotting in my gut
I’ve left myself alone
Nobody to see me through,
No one to come to my front door
I can’t get a grip on things
I keep singing the same songs
I’ve thrown every piece down
This insatiable hole

I’m going back to sell myself,
To the trap of endless repetition,
When what I need
Is to be alone

I remember the view
From up there, looking down
I didn’t find an answer there
Nor anywhere else

Hold on and it will pass
That’s what I heard my voice say
Over and over
All through my life

‘Next Trip Around the Track’ by Jon Ureña