I can only surmise,
why people give up on this "wonderful" life,
& say such hard and violent goodbyes,
I've been down on my knees,
& they've heard all my loneliest cries ,

It doesn't really mean that I'm really so, wise,
& doesn't mean I got the magic seeing eye,

Seeing how someone could want,
to be a ghost who will forever haunt,
to miss this most golden "opportunity",
a do-over,
when hands are up in futility,

From my most painful of memories,

I try to extract the reason,
from so deep within,
way deep below the surface of my skin,

And I think it is just enough,
too much of everything,
shattered spirits,
turning into brilliant shining stars,
eventually,
& no longer can they feel those hateful
old scars,

Cuz,
it maybe is that time,
for them,
who are we to really say,
what's so right or wrong anyway?

It seems a selfish way indeed,
a warning for me perhaps to heed,
though by death they say we are freed,

It seems so fundamentally " wrong"
and yet,

I just seem to completely understand.

Cherie Nolan © 2016