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The End
Singing to myself to make myself forget:
That if tears were money, I’d be far in debt.
I remember when we weren’t so sad.
In our eyes things didn’t appear as bad.
Every day had brought something new.
We had everything to look forward to.
Growing up isn’t as easy as it’s said to be.
Times have changed, negativity is all I see.
We were brought up to put all our faith in God.
My conclusion of this holy one is it’s all a fraud.
Contemplating out who in the mirror I see,
This being is confusing and certainly isn’t me.
No way is it possible to change the hands of time.
Age speaks everything and shows how far to climb.
We can’t do enough to help the situation any,
Dwelling on our now when the future holds too many.
It would be pointless to bring us into life:
Dessert in the beginning; the end brings the strife.
There has to be something waiting at the end…
To heal the pain; our souls, it will mend.
Ending it now, you’re skipping the rest.
Leaving it all behind, you’re heading for the best.
You could do that now, but what about us?
Living the very longest is our special plus.
It doesn’t hide the rude people you and I will meet.
It looks them in the face and tells them to take a seat.
A valuable stubbornness I have learned,
And realizing what is best, the tables have turned.
The sky is not a sky; the grass is not the grass.
Everything’s an obstacle set here for us to pass.
June 3, 2002
