Grief, how we’re all doomed to die, how we struggle and bargain with it, hoping for life, how for most humanity’s history, ignorance has been a major factor, and how most of the time it’s a bitter fight to survive, as a poet I'm enchanted by the words I write, but all around me are problems and I ignore their plight, money is dwindling, my parents are aging, I'm worried for my sisters and their education, my puppies, why do they have such short lives, if I was aware and mentally able I would try to be proactive and protect those close to me with all that I can, so much effort and I’m willing, but it’s part of being a man, alas, my illness consumes me, my addiction to poetry, the moon in the sky, she whispers in my ears and I cry, a willing slave, yearning to serve her over and over again, all this poetry are nails in my coffin, they’ll seal me to my grave, I came and I went, at hell’s gates I whisper and I pray, may I taste it again?

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