B E M U S E D

If I stop,
that's my problem.

But the world continues pushing.

If I hurry,
that's my problem.

But the child lags behind.

If I lost,
that's my problem.

Yet losing's part of the game.

I'm not entitled to be.

LIVED 16 NOV– 22 NOV 2003

You awoke to what was living
The mundane drone behind meaningless meanings

A poignant gift you left behind
My own mortality, fragility in time

Irony be told, when would I end?
I don’t know, it ends when it ends

For now, in the moment,
I chose to live again

And I live, for you have reminded me
It was upon death, where my search began