When the time is just right.

I know his name and the streets he will walk on;
the city he will be born in, and the one he'll call home;
the mother he will adore, the father he will look up to.
the sister he will love, the friend he'll count on.

I can see him dance to his silent tune in the monsoon rain,
See him hold a heavy secret, that would soon exact its price.
I can see him savour a stolen kiss, cherish a forbidden love.
See him cry when all he ever knew, vanished in a moment.

He'll embrace an alien world, and make it his home.
He'll find validation in the eyes of the one who knows.
He'll carry wounds too deep to heal, too raw to hide.
Yet hope will stay afloat, in those eyes, in that smile.

I can see him run, oh, I can see him run,
Hell, I even know the song that plays as he runs,
I know where he's going and why he's in a rush,
And best of all, I know how it all ends.

He awaits the pressing of each key, of each letter,
that would fill his sinew with blood, of the literary type.
The words that would form, and together tell his story,
when my fingers finally think the time is just right.

November PAD, ahoy! This is poem number 1 for Robert Lee Brewer's November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2011. The prompt is "Procrastination Poem".

There's a month's time to explore the meters and the rhyming schemes. To start with, I just typed, as the words flowed.