The Perfect Time to Talk

There’s no such thing
As the perfect time to talk,

Perfect words
Don’t need watches or clothes,

Sometimes they turn up drunk
And don’t even make sense;

Ideal moments
Don’t arrive when we decide,

Sometimes they miss the bus
And rust a bit

While they’re waiting
For the next one,

It’s ironic really.

Except you’re not listening
And the moment’s not right
For that kind of talking,

There’s a broken glass
In the dishwasher

And the post’s just arrived.

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