sitting on a bench

you are 

sitting on a bench

polishing your perfect nails.

it might be too hard for me to remember

my heads from my tails,

but i approach anyway,

wondering as i study your face

what i might have to do or say.

you smile and offer me a timid joke.

i take a deep breath and offer you a pleasant toke.

but i wasn't trying to score;

i didn't have time for that anymore:

too many days have fallen over my head

and i look like i've just tumbled out of an untidy bed.

i can't even remember what i'm doing here:

memories of childhood keep trying to reappear

and i know i've traveled with heavy loads on my back;

all the passing white clouds have turned into coal black.

behind me all the pain of failures and interesting lies!

but i keep sailing my ship when all it wants to do is capsize,

wondering if i can be the first mate,

standing my watch at the helm like i'm on a first date,

not ready to drop anchor and head into the nearest port.

maybe there's one more chance to be the gentleman and find a fine woman to court

while i am still standing and 

you are

sitting on a bench

polishing your perfect nails.

it might be too hard for me to remember

my heads from my tails,

but i approach anyway,

wondering as i study your face

what i might have to do or say.