Friday, September 20, 2013

2.870 : 9/20/07 : Half Lived

Statistics are not fairness, kindness, justice
no matter that they seem to be on your side
It’s true I might be at the very middle point of life
the river here does not seem too damn wide
half lived: is it the better or the worse half left
characteristic of the bass or treble clef
I am tired tired tired of the lash of fear
what’s the use when I know we’re all for out of here?
there’s no glass eyes or wooden legs left at the healing pool
and if I make excuses for it then I’m more the fool
so what’s left to me besides what boils down to blind chance
and even at the outliers the inevitable proceeds in its inexorable dance
feelings are not evidence tradition’s no excuse
and still I try to sort out my believing
knowing so few will understand and less will care so what’s the use
yet I cannot ignore this constant message I’m receiving
resist it as I might I know living’s only here and now
And God does not require my defense in this eternal moment does endow
my half life with the power to be complete
I guess I’ve got to be thankful I’m still on my feet


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