The toss up
Solitude. Lying soiled
And serpently,
Like the good old days,
Like the times spent in
Thought
When we had time
And time
Had
nevermind
to busy learning how to walk. 
And the days go buy slow enough to
Remember the colors
But not the verb.
And
We can't stop
And
we can't delay
And
We can't let it happen.