It’s Not Too Late

I’m lost and lonely in this place, Burrowing through the earth of forgetfulness And making weary, slow steps Through the unending maze Of sadness and lingering regrets. If we could find ourselves again On childhood streets, Recreate our innocence and sweetness, Our hopes and dim eyes would resurrect Like an Easter sunrise. Meet me there, the old bakery Sending the scent of apple pie Through the city, It’s not too late, it’s not too late To become our true selves And keep the promises we made to each other.