Carpe Diem

Years've passed. Hate and distrust expired.
Your synapses turn to something akin to wood.
You motor's slowing nicely, as it should-
Frankly, you're more or less healthy, love, but tired
Tired having seen so many kinds of folly, learning as you
Did, all spring from the same rood:
Genuine Greed, imaginary Need-
Awful, loving, now, all points of view
Awful, loving all, now, clothed or nude.
Necessary, illness, now, and good-
Even your teeth's, which presently grow forward!
God, an indemnity, as you trudge death's doorward.
All you had you now admit, indeed,
But having, now, admit no longer need.

poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!