Half-Life

i feel there comes a time

when we realize that our life

is only but half a life

that we have deprived ourselves

of enrichment and fulfillment,

that we live and live and live,

until we realize

that this life―

built upon tireless efforts to reach the unreachable―

is not even a life at all,

that when we gaze at the stars

we do not see ourselves among them,

that when we fall from grace,

we fall beneath the scorched earth

we fall further and further and further―

we  f a l l

 

because a life half-lived is not worth saving

and the ferryman

he will accept our gold coins

he will escort us across

and we will greet Death

but Death

he will turn his back on us

for not even he

can accept but half a life

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world
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