Don't worry by then...

Yes...
So I wait wait wait
Till rain drops are going
Drip drip drip
Then I no longer hear them
Because the rain stops
But the clock of my heart
Still beating the many thousands of seconds
Of waiting for you
Never stops.
It keeps ticking
Tick and tick
And tick-tock, tick-tock,
Tick!
But you won't even flinch
Brigid
In your determination
Never to meet me again...
Time will go on
Things, events will pass by
Birds will continue to chirp and fly
Newborn from future generations -
for their mothers will cry,
We both will sigh, while thinking
Out loud:
"It'll come to pass..."
"Never meeting him won't mean a thing
Years gone passed"
"Never meeting her won't mean a thing
For my ticking heart-clock"
It's indeed disheartening (to me, at least)
Never to see you again...
And so, dear Brigid...you too shall grow old
And you'll think by then and say:
"I've lived my life fully - have the family, kids and grandkids I always wanted...so,
Why for a fraction of a second do I reminisce
About
This guy I kept running away from all my life
All of a sudden I just got struck by the question
'Whatever became of that flimsy poet who serenaded Me till the crack of dawn...and I never bothered
With
Any acknowledgement of him,
I enjoyed seeing that poor writer's,
Bastard's soul cringe -
Suffer
For not ever seeing me...again?'"
But why will you have wondered upon reaching old Age, dear Brigid...
It will have been too late in your seventies...
(Grandma smelled
And not of pretty, fresh-cut roses - so will you my dear
long-lost-wanna-be runaway love) so,
Theretofore,
Hence,
Don't worry by then...
I only loved you
And asked
On my knees begged...
For a penny
Of your love
In return,
1¢.