A Fitting Finale

Too late to spit, too glad to swallow, she smiled at it What's done is done, there is no tomorrow Only the ambiguous expectations of it And in our today is laden the universe of sorrow Let them who wronged her cry now for their loss From molesting father to rude teacher so unkind Above all let him who treated her love as but dross Weep her and unlament his unfaithfulness, his blind Ego, and his irrevrsible eternal loss The angels had coming swining low as had heard The chariots ablaze were for God's last thornbird Farewell then callous cruel world she said, she said So and then like a wilted plant bowed her head. The curtains fall onn the stage of life, the act is done And the theatre waits now another cycle of the sun.