Pisaries Creator

When will I arrive to this place?

The 18,250 days that will pass my body.

New heights and horizons along the skyline I created.

My shape has changed even though it should be less.

The tripled experiences have found a home in my brain.

My mind wanders across the paved streets.

I do not want all unfinished roads to be driven on and destroyed.

I must save some asphalt for the future.

If not my own future, then another person’s promising future.

When will the wheels spin slower than the speed of light?

The 18,251 days that pass my body will appear a stroke of luck.

The genie coming out of the bottle has granted all my wishes.

Or the tiny leprechaun handing a green pot of gold to me.

My shape might change even more from this.

The freedom I desire as I use my energy for myself.

When I reach 18,252 days, will I accept I cannot stop time?