It's Getting Late

There is a journey before me but,
The destination is not at all clear.
The best part of me may already be there,
And what is left is mostly my memories.
I will leave with nothing in my pockets.
I cannot tell the reason for my journey.
My heart has yet to reveal it to my mouth.
Why does my body feel light and airy?
I am floating away like a child's baloon,
Tethered to Earth by a single thread.
A fortune in bribes can't stay my departure.
When it's time to go you really must go,
And something tells me it's getting late.

.