One day, I may go the way of Hemmingway.
After spending a life looking for a cause worth dying for.
And trying to muster the courage,
mostly, to do what I had to do.
Up until now I always deflected
There was always more time.
For love.
And to make sure
something I did in this life was worth a damn.
But now I've lived through the moment
All men have it.
Maybe a gray hair, or a growing lack thereof
And I see that my seconds are numbered.
The worst part, interestingly enough,
is that in experiencing this,
I am unoriginal.
I'm really not sure,
Whether it's that I just want to be less old
Or more young.
What's more, all time is in my head.
The universe doesn't care that I have an agenda to attend to.
So, one day,
I may go the way of Hemmingway.