The time comes every once in a while.
While waiting, I compile all my file.
File of stories I found worthwhile.
Because the time only comes once in a while.
The time comes and I put on a smile.
"How is your life? It's been a while."
She told me, "Life is fine, not so vile."
"More mobile, and less labile."
She asked me back just like a good friend will.
I tried to grin and make my story a thrill.
But a caveman life is an exile.
It would be lie to say otherwise.
Feelings of unsure I wanted to pour
on someone who I know won't ignore.
But don't want to be an eyesore, someone she abhors.
Better keep the sore myself forevermore.
Day by day I feel further away
from the place she now stays.
A mile a day I walk the speedway.
Never mind winning the race; just want to finish it one day.
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