Here I am
on my life’s edge.
The brink of existence
lies within my finite grasp.
“To be or not to be”
was once the question.
Now I must formulate my own
disillusioning inquiry.
To sum up my feelings
in a line or two
might help me live on
with less worry and care.
But! to define a life
through prose or poem
is infinitely difficult
and inescapably annoying.
Experience by experiencing.
(not by hearsay)
One’s life is just that—
it belongs to no one else.
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