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.