Poem: Endings

Neil Sedaka knowsWe were adults about the whole thing,

saying the script

learned well from years of practice

and reading with spongy minds.

It — the awful schism — was for the best

as any self-help book,

climbing up the bestseller list

would have declaimed in tones of compassionate smugness.

 

Yet no one wanted to go

down the lonely path made lonelier

by the essential incompatibility of

two people, flawed and beautiful.

We knew but we didn’t want to know

 

about what awaits us at the ending

of everything that matters,

or does not.

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