My tongue can taste the scars
Of a million tomorrows
Infinite draws
Of
Infinite doors
Infinitely opening and closing
To infinite more
So many tasty treats
Variations of creams
And unknown recipes
A menu of futures
Of a million dreams
In the restaurant of choice
Of a present
Slowly losing it's voice
To the past
The selection process
Won't delay the hourglass
And I can see certain cuisines
Fading from behind the glass
Looking at the waiter
He smiles
And so I have to ask
Why delicious edibles are fading
But he says that it's all the same
That it's no one but me that is to blame
My eyes fooled by opinions
Sometimes age
Sometimes loved ones
Sometimes pain
Most times me
My indecision
Is all I really taste
I look and love
And never buy
And so these scars
Never say goodbye