How temporary be the hours,
our residue of memories left to wither.
Her empty whispers, his empty promises,
Misses and Mister This and That, dear lovers,
Earthly things all the same—shadows.
Owed debt, be it green sheets or gold bars,
bars us from seeing beyond skirts and ties,
ties us to all these things we hold.
Hold me close, memories of forgotten time,
timeless thoughts that barely cross mind’s plains.
Plain to see here—a painful wound we ignore.
Nor shall we admit it, for it bares the scars within.
In our ignorance of purpose, I ask now—
Now that you see, ask yourself, “How?”