The Last Time

So we ask again,
this time hopeful;
no longer deceitful
but inside a broken body
we too stand crippled.
Keep on living without question,
feel nostalgia,
live in nostalgia.
Tired are the broken,
dead are the broken,
but still they keep on walking.
For I guess it's time for us
to play god in our own lives;
this time not hopeless,
this time endless.
So it's the last time,
but this time we aren't asking,
because this time
the future is no longer in our hands.
        DannYetman
http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/