I wonder if we would have a chance to take this to our grave,

Where our rings slip off our fingers from thirty years of decay,

Where only graveyard passers-by would know that we were one,

Where time only indicates the sky’s courtship with the sun.

I wonder if this feeling of purgatory calls for change,

Or promulgates the feeling that wallows around to derange,

Or signifies my rejection of her heaven and her hell,

Or denotes this love feeling I feel I feel for Michelle.

I wonder if I am old enough to know the lovely truth,

That if I was not born so late I’d not be so uncouth,

That I would know the courtly secret if only I pertained,

That maybe there is no beauteous truth to be obtained.

I wonder if another girl could make me feel love stronger,

And make me want to kiss her neck and lips a little longer,

And would die for conversation, no matter what we’d speak of,

And teach me the difference between conveniences and love.

I wonder if we will stay the same or change our destined course,

I wonder if when I stay or leave I’ll feel guilty remorse,

I wonder if there is meaning made between each dusk and dawn,

I wonder that since I wonder maybe the wonderment is gone.