There's something I wish could happen.

There are feelings that only show when you come near me.

The feeling that I could be something else other than a glass jar nearly full . . .

. . . just waiting to overflow with abundance.

An abundance of Joy and Sorrow.

An abundance of Pain and Peity.

An abundance of Smiles and Grimmices . . .

Of Similes and Metaphors.

I walk away from here, pondering which way to go.

The sun is setting early, painting the clouds with its glow as it disappears.

The children next to me are singing the same song for the third time.

Unable to remember the words to end it, they repeat the last verse over and over.

I hope my eyes whisper. . . "We don't need beginnings or endings."

Do you want to travel any further. . .

. . . or are you tired of me now?