I have not been what I should
Nor done the things I clearly could
I did not try to grasp the nettle
Instead stared blank into the kettle
Which of course did not boil
Still water with no hint of roil
I was and were and that still more
A passive shadow at your door
That would not knock
For fear of answer
A fool who would not take his chances
Deported to the moon
To forever sit
Infinitesimally
Buried
In
Regolith.