Trading My Hours

Eight hours spent
infront of my computer
Two more hours
infront of my tv
Another two
infront of faces I do not know
braving my way back home
and finding some spot
inside a tightly-packed train

Which of these hours
were truly mine
which hours
the hours I’d look forward to
when I open my eyes from sleep?

O, that I may spend more hours
living
running
walking beneath the pouring rain

I’d give my hours
for some minutes
with which I can look beyond the sky
and catch myself some butterflies

I’d give my minutes
for some seconds
a miniscule moment
in which there’d be a kiss
a song
an eternity
that never fades.

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