I’ve watched illusions shatter one by one
Until there’s nothing left but broken glass.
Just a scent of memory in the air
The inevitable has come to pass.
And just as I suspected from the start
I am cursed to be the one still standing.
Smarter folks and better minds bit the dust
How am I the one to spike the landing?
The jury’s out as to whether I am
A true genius or an idiot.
But I keep thinking I’ve run out of time.
And I’m being asked to dismount the pot.
It’s too late for lovers and adventures.
All I can do is to fill my brief time
With reading and charity and for last
Figuring how to get this shit to rhyme.