Something

If there were something to say, I wouldn't know it. 

I am out of time.  I'm out of reach.  There are no more words left for me to say, yet I'm still struggling to speak.  Still saying the same prayer.  

We're still trying to reach the heavens and we're still making iPhones.  

At the end of the day, I'm nothing more than just me.

Fraying hair and crooked teeth.  Compassionate and anxious.  Listening.  Watching.  Waiting.  Wondering.  And never doing anything about it.