“Is it time”? I ask them.

And I ask myself… “To give up”?

They always answer “No, It is not time”.

I also tell myself “No, It is not time”.

For whatever reason being…

I carry on.

“It is not time”.

Seasons change: Rain to snow, and clouds to sun.

I move from place to place.

Starting new lives in new worlds.

“It is not time”.

As I grow older I know I must carry on.

When it is time to go: my heart will no longer beat.

I will leave this place: or I will return.

Until my last breath: I will not give up.

“No, It is not time”.