You told me this wasn’t the way you
Wanted to end it.
That you wanted something different,
You wanted to make it last.
You were adamant about it,
You said you couldn’t let us say goodbye.
I guess you could say goodbye in many
Different ways, like, skywriting or writing
It in a poem, you don’t really have to tell
Someone goodbye, you can just think it,
Like so many forgotten dreams.
Most people forget about having dreams.
They let their lives drift by slowly, moving as
If in a trance, not really thinking about anything
But falling in love, having children, and
Getting a job, but they don’t really think about
Who they are married to or who their children
Are or what their job is really about, all they
Think about is doing those things and getting
Life over with as quickly as possible.
Some of those lives are riddled with misery,
Like day-old newspaper on a sad, tired old
Rug on a bathroom floor in someone’s house.
And then you have to remind yourself you are still
Alive, that your dreams count for something,
That you don’t have to settle for seconds.
You can go for firsts.