Mo(u)rning
Just the tiniest reminders
Of the memories now faded
Of the sweetness of youth
And the hours we wasted
It's an X-ray of living
And my eyes cannot open
In an instant, existence
Can be so surely broken
And the decks are all stacked
The only question is "When?"
Through the keyhole, all gathered
For a glimpse of the end
Better here, for the moment
Than to wait for the rest
Was the heart made for caring
Or just beats in the chest?
J Douglas Stephenson