The clock hands go round and
Slide over midnight
But it’s never the same midnight
We are a day older
We have another scar
In our heart
Or in our flesh.
If I could turn back to midnight
Which midnight would I choose?
When I was 6 perhaps or when I was 35.
We cannot know if we took the right path
It could have been dismal
It might have been dazzling.
I may have become someone different
Travelling on a parallel life-line.
A wet spring, a dry spring
We cannot foretell
Until it’s gone round and past.