It Is Late For The Day To Be Young

It is late for the day to be young,
All the feelings that are coming new;
Like a day that begins in a song,
And sometimes only heard by the few.
In the time that is here at this stage,
Growing themes from the silence;
and shall plow its magnitude with age,
When it is within reach of acceptance.

I was born to sing of tomorrows,
That is surrounded by infinities ways;
What of feeling each time borrows,
And how colors come from grays.
I have chosen a theme that is near,
To my heart and of island serenade;
In the many waters that flow here,
And to the ocean again is conveyed.

Days that were young come and go,
With feelings of those that were once;
Surrounded by the infinities that grow,
From the memories of candescence.
In the time where the thoughts travel,
With the clearness where all begins;
We will have the incarcerated marvel,
Magnitude of late the state that spins.