The Journals Have Been Written Poem by Mark Heathcote

The journals have been written.
My diaries have been closed.
Dark days have followed me home.
But I still stand alone, waiting.
Wondering what it was all for

Today is leaving.
And tomorrow may never come.
But if you are fast,
You can live your last at last.
And forgive and forget.
Whatever happened or took place in the past.

The devils in the detail
They all say:
But I am happy alone.
A misfit not prone to listening
I have dreams of daydreams.
The knowledge that's mine
And the truth is that one day
I, too, will be following you.
On the path, the dew has shaken
And will not drop again into our laps.

The instant I wander back
To the point the point where no one is left behind or lags
I remember there was nothing new.
The ink in the inkwell is dry.
And it's fed up with me and you.
So you see, the journals have been written.
My diaries have been closed.
Dark days have followed me home.
But I still stand alone, waiting.
Wondering what it was all for
But then I fell in love with you.