Admit it- you feel like it's ending-
the thinking, the talking,
the knowing,the looking,
the living, the loving

It's ending.

You follow the everything
with the palm of your hand
transformed in the world you were
once promised.

And you only know it for an instant.
And that's all it takes, anymore.

Love, for an instant.
Think, for a moment.
Live, though it's fleeting, out loud.

It's ending.  Your true life-
the one you wanted to live-
is the victim of expectation,
of answering, of following.

It's ending.  Admit it.