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The bravery of humanity
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New poetry I see it now, the bravery of humanity.
We live wholeheartedly like we are playing Russian roulette.
Because we are.
There's a loaded gun at our head called time.
Sometimes it goes off before it should, leaving an awful aftermath
Of unsaid goodbyes, undone hellos, and a space pregnant with pause—no longer hope but now a well of "what ifs" and "have nots."
Some things can’t be diluted, like love, diligence, loyalty. Especially that vile beast of stolen futures.
We are sentient; we know we have an expiry date, a death barcode.
We live because the only other choice is not to.
We grip at the foundations of our lives with broken nails, to match the fragility of our souls.
I am humbled by the bravery of men
To live passionately and to know the passion will die.
There are no second chances or do-overs.
Death is death.
So living in wonder is in itself a gentle revolution
Against the Gods who may or may not exist.
So those soft glances, quick kisses, become worth their weight in gold.
No one knows when the timer will …………………
