If I'M Still Here In August
J
Juan Olivarez
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If I'm still here in August,
Then it will be too late.
I'll never walk in the arid lands,
That someone else, controls my fate.
If I'm still here, then I'll know,
I will have missed my ride.
That my dream of the Mojave,
Just withered up and died.
And I don't know what will become,
Of me if I can't return.
If I can't see white mountain tops,
Or walk on sands that burn.
I'll know by then that all my prayers,
Must have surely been in vain.
And I couldn't return, to the golden west,
To the place it never rains.
But I'll always remember in my heart,
The desert where I once roamed.
And know deep down inside my soul,
That that's where I belonged.
5/13/11 Alton Texas
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