There Is No Time
of that overpriced timeshare you always took for the winter.
You made sure it was filled with the finest of everything,
but you didn’t realize that you had nothing of real value.
The only significant thing you could lose now would be your ignorance.
You think you’re a master, an old pro who’s seen it all,
but you see nothing, and if I ever believed you did,
then I was as ignorant as you.
Call me ungrateful, but I wasn’t the one
who never did a thing for anyone else,
who always had an excuse for where he was and what he did
with “best friends” that I somehow never met.
They were probably all criminals.
You would say “God loves a winner” to justify always getting your way,
as if success could prove your manipulations were good and right.
There was nothing you couldn’t twist to your advantage,
and you thought you could smooth over anything and anyone.
Smiles and friendly handshakes may be tools in negotiations,
but they never provided any answers when I called out to you.
I was only damaged goods for you to hide,
and any ill effects could be glossed over and forgotten.
You never wanted to know a thing back then,
and your money kept me on a string for long enough.
But the devil won’t sleep forever,
and my antisocial openness can’t be eliminated or ignored.
Maybe you mean it when you say you genuinely care now,
but I think you still just want to make the problem disappear.
Why do you think knowing me now will change anything?
It’s not meant to be; there is no time.
Copyright (C) 2012 by Eric Landuyt