Monday, April 16, 2007

Incompletion

I cannot finish anything,
So it does not matter if my beginnings are good.
I must finish something before I die,
Or my life, which had so much potential, will be meaningless.
The tremors in my body make me fear
That such a time may come very soon.
The future is indistinct and colorless—
Nothing is there.
I want to cry out with frustration,
But I have no strength.

I fear to wait,
But perhaps tomorrow...

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