It takes all my resources
To see life
As the opening night
Of a brief run.
It's hard to keep on script,
To act normally,
As I've done,
For now.
Got good and not so good memories,
Got the present to keep up,
And got the non-events
Of the future ahead;
Then... what?

It's not like the movies,
Or the kid being hurled
Through the windshield.
I'm no longer a spectator.
I won't be talking about it;
The media will report
A well-turned condolence:

A fine parent, child and sibling.
Dedicated teacher and friend.
We would like to extend our sympathies.
Sorry for you troubles.

Troubles!
I'll have none of that.
That's for survivors,
(As If I were a
Shipwreck
Or reality show).
Well, I didn't.
Did well for a brief time:
Good job, spouse, kids,
Collected a few pensions
Lived middle class with
The occasional splurge.

Stones only have
Limited space,
And I've already said
Too much.
Then pre-existent consciousness
Prevails,
And I am back to where I began:
It takes all my resources
To see life
As the opening act
Of a brief run.