Cut Short

Cut Short

And the pieces left to see

Have already been taken away

You think how it isn’t fair

And all the what ifs

But it’s no use

The end is certain, and soon

Every single moment is acknowledged

Appreciated, glorified

And you can bet on no one truly understanding

Eyes two steps away

When you remember how they used to be only one

Only one

You can sit and stare into nothingness

So long that you realize days have passed

And you know you might as well

Be the only one in the world

You look for things you wanted to see

But those answers aren’t there

You think the questions will slow

But they don’t

The answers come no easier

Although you somehow thought they would

They don’t

You dream because somehow

You believe those images will materialize

But you have no promises, only faith

And that and a dollar will get you a cup of coffee

But not there, if anywhere

You suck it in and save your energy

Because you think “What if I need it”

Everything becomes conscious

And carefree simultaneously

You relish in the contradictions

And the ways they’re unable to understand

They dismiss it, and make allowances for you

And no matter how special you feel

It’s not enough, it’s never enough

Because you will be gone

And they will be here, remembering

Making it all mean something to them

And you may be able to watch

But you’ll never be able to touch, again

Death is for the living

Life’s secrets for the dead

Irony, contradiction, divinity, eternity

Is all you have left

Save the longing

How could you forget the longing?

You practiced before you came

Longing for another opinion

An ounce of hope looking to be left alive

And how you promise to do it right this time

But now, this time right now

You waste, fantasizing about how you would do it

Differently, better, perfect, in tune

But your life has bloomed

And this moment is all that’s promised

Not the next

Yet even at this moment

You are human, and wasting

Like us all, but now

You have been given a gift of knowing

The end is coming, again

You waste time pondering

Maybe you realize this

So you run out the door

To find whatever it is you’re looking for

But you don’t know

Because you’re not dead, yet

Speak, speak out

Touch with the soul

Give them something to remember

Give yourself something to remember

To reflect upon, to smile at

To know you physically touched the soul of another

And your own soul

Before its time

Before your moment in time

Everything

A curse, and a blessing

Contradicting

Reflecting

Death and the living

Dreaming

And dying

Each moment in its time

ⓒ 2003 Shawn Michael Quinn