Parallel

Moments I took for granted
Have become memories planted

Sadness filled to the brim
And the reaper grim

When does one’s suffering end
When below six feet they transcend?

This one old skin cannot hold this wine
If only living was a sign

We would know what is to come
This feeling won’t make us numb

What happens after won’t be a concern
We will learn. We will discern

We won’t die to live
When we leave, we’ll outlive.

Vera