the daily poem.

​Some day soon,
I will figure all 
of this out,
this thing called life.
The in’s
the out’s
the sudden 
left hand turns.
Knowing that it all
will end up taking us 
somewhere.
In the end,
does it really 
matter,
if we have 
all of the answers,
and have missed
the most important 
thing of all.
That life is for the living,
not those who 
live amongst the dead.

Who will believe it?
Who will know?
Who can understand?
In the end,
I don’t think that it really
matters.

It is all good.