Emit
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My earliest memory, it certainly seems, is something I don’t want to boast.
Cold, lonely and dormant and finite and boring, I grew tired of playing the ghost.
I pondered and wondered and questioned myself. Was this a fruitless endeavor?
It’s about that time that I realized, that time was meant to be clever.
As the sunbeams moved and the cosmos proved, to give, I had nothing left.
I regarded in awe as it started to thaw. I recoiled, retired and wept.
I’m spread too thin, through out the cosmic winds; I struggle to hold my grip.
For a thin spread fabric pulled too tight, is surely destined to rip.
Now all for one and one for all, has always been lost in its meaning.
But as time charges on and all matter is gone, the hope will still remain gleaming.
I leave you with this, last anecdote, May you cherish it amongst your lore.
I never invented happiness. The choice was always yours.
Copyright © Adam Mackay | Year Posted 2015
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