In dusty streets where dreams may fade,
A child's heart with hope displayed.
Mom's wisdom echoes, though life feels broken,
In the land where words are softly spoken.

Standing lone on worn doorstep stone,
Frozen heart, feeling so alone.
Counting days with silent plea,
For maybe next time, hope will set free.

Watching endings, knowing pain,
Yearning to skip, escape the strain.
Bruised heart, carry-on in hand,
Lost love in a far-off land.

Maybe next time, enough I'll be,
With everything, you'll stay with me.
No wasted dreams, no tearful goodbyes,
Just whispered hopes beneath the skies.

Counting days, a silent chime,
Hoping for love in another time.
In this world where dreams are rare,
Maybe next time, love will dare.