Each passing day when I can ask a ray
Of sunlight whither goeth he on Earth
That I may follow, charting soil and clay
With water, paper, pen, a planet worth
A hundred thousand lifetimes just to learn
Some tiny slice of this warm blue-green ball,
Internalize my humanness and earn
The priv'leg'd time I stand up, breathe, and fall
To humbly recognize the fact that I,
Illusioned with a sense of self, cannot
Go on in life forever, though I try
For Afterlife so I'll not be forgot.
For this, I write in hope, perhaps, and see
If these words give my Afterlife to me.

07/27/2014

Author's Note: The one and only guarantee in life is death. Use this life wisely.

Posted on 07/27/2014
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