I will sing a song of mockingbirds and yell against the wind. No time like now, it must be now, I might as well begin. The timeless tale has yet to be told, my pen still wet with ink. And so I sit and ponder still, for a thought I think, I think. Mystery in past decisions, and future steps tonight. Could I write the past so clear, my hand thinks it might. I close my eyes to doubt, she sits upon my bed. Always with sweet words that go so well with my meds. Tanqueray and misguided kisses, I dream about what she says. Can I write, shall I write, she spurs me ahead. I will write, please help me write, I begin to beg. Writing at least, finally written, it has finally been said.