is there anything left to do? am i
to go to school–to get a job–to work
for what? to make money? to enlighten my
ever-depleting light of life? you tell me to wait
and to hold on–that the answers will come
soon, that all will be made sense. what the hell
kind of answer is that?! am i to take the smiles
in strides? to watch my peers pass merrily by
the bygones ive already readied. to read when im
dead–when the beatless heart steadies. it’ll happen
some day i don’t know when. when in my grave
when im dead, words spoken by a “friend”.