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Sic transit gloria mundi



We get to choose
neither our arrival nor our departure,
and damned little in between.

Some to compensate choose to believe,
which isn't a real thing but can soothe.

Some imagine what they would have chosen
had choice been granted.

And some resist!  Resist the inevitable
like there were medals to be pinned on
in the end.

Because why not?
If life is a cacophony of dream,
what obligation are we under
to facilitate the farce?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.