Futility

Sometimes all the work in the world doesn’t matter one bit.

Sometimes all the work in the world doesn’t matter one bit.

“Do you cry? Do you pray? Do you wish them away?”

Me and my memories of you.
These things stay joined together.

She wants to know what happens when the bottom drops out.

You’ve got the music turned down. All the lights are off.

The things I’ve seen.
The places I’ve visited.
All so irrelevant.

You’ll see. Once I up and leave here, then you’ll see.

Wind at my back, carrying me inland.
At last, I’m ready.

There comes a time when you no longer need the help.

The things I loved.
Too many of them were frankly disturbing.

You appear.
My poor heart races.
Suddenly, the power shuts off.