If I Had More Time

Photo by brenoanp from Pexels

I lay awake dreaming
and dreading
the future’s future.
When I’m old and weak
and get asked,
‘What would you do
if you had more time?’
All the chances
and the choices of mine,
the what ifs and maybes —
haunt me before its time.

I fear oblivion, of
not having done enough.
I’d think,
“If I had more time, I’ll
change this, tweak that
scrap this, do that
make it bigger
pursue more things
create a legacy and
spin myself into lore”.
But I’d say,
“If I had more time,
I’d ask for more.”

So when at the end,
I won’t reflect.
I’ll wait
for the sun to go down,
for the ball to drop
till I’m finally laid to rest
and the music stops.