Maybe this afternoon will go on.
Maybe this day will end,
And another will start,
And then another one.
Maybe Friday will arrive,
Teeth and lips and hands,
My bedroom lighten in orange,
Our modern, urban dream.
Maybe the stars still exist somewhere,
I can't see them anymore.
Except for our phones' lights,
In the middle of a concert, to a slow song.
Maybe my thoughts will calm down,
Let me sleep a little bit before tomorrow.
Maybe they will continue to scream,
Beneath blaring music, life so loud.
Maybe realities will merge,
Dreams and statics will fall,
And the screen will unravel,
Everything I've missed.
Maybe the world is moving,
I missed the bus and stopped for the next one.
While the fire grows,
Candles always seem innocent.
Maybe I should ask more questions,
Who are you, where are you from?
Tell me more. So I can ask,
What is my mind? What is this?
Maybe memento mori is a motto
On everyone's mouths, written in mountains.
Memento vivere feels more human,
Gives hope and hope and hope.
Maybe hope is all we have.
It is bloody and scraped,
But still standing,
Still fighting.
Maybe my words don't make much sense,
They hit the ground, and spin towards space.
Useless poems and dust settles down,
Aftermath of a never-ending day.
Maybe eyes become twilights,
Mouths twist and grin and frown,
Fingers come up and snap,
A changeling next to fairies and giants.
Maybe I can stare to the sky,
And find meaning to the clouds,
The old rocking chair of the universe,
Rocking us, lullabies of the far-away.
Maybe trees can move on their own,
And dogs live forever.
Wishes of children are reality,
When they hurt their knee, on a summer day.
Maybe thoughts slow down, slow down,
Words clear and precise,
Saying what you mean,
What you do, what you want.
Maybe this afternoon is not forever,
Maybe tomorrow is closer than we think,
Maybe the night will come and fade and rise,
Maybe life starts soon enough.
Maybe everything is here,
In this room, fingerprint of mine.
Maybe this afternoon ends soon,
And this music goes on forever.
