That which
has gone before
days that are
no more

but memory
never sleeps
even fragmentally
some remnants it keeps

how blessed
are those
who have no tears
know not life's throes

of anguish and pain
and what have I
to say?  my sorrows
I hide.  You asked: 'Why?'

But I can't refer you
to the file of my life--where it's kept
I know not---therein, forgotten
in dust and oblivion wrapped

for none could ever escape
from the all-pervading force of fate
free-will, courage, defiance
all drops in failure at its wrathful gate

yet, somehow, I don't know how
these my long-suffering tears
have given me more strength than I deserve
I prevail despite the onslaught of tumultuous years.