We are all just trying to get along
Working out the title of a new verse
Turning life into one final song.
Greeting faces with smiles
Offering a hand
Remembering the time when you had a little plan.
In with the old to replace the new
Some folk prefer the reverse
A distinctive taste of the journey to be earned.
The beginning is all to learn
The middle is muffled with things of concern
The end has you teaching to anyone listening
With a face filled with dotage.
Crossing into dimensional states
Entwined with genetic fate
Tampering with the frequency of life’s tastes
Reaching out offering deluded grace.
Is to know nothing as the universe turns into waste.
Of a life, packed with anamnesis and lemon skies.
Now, I’m ready to die.