Life's no prison, but a holding pen.
So many enter, and pass out again,
and so we struggle to make friends.
On people one cannot truly depend.
I had hoped you'd stay until the end.
Heaven—and life's nature—forfend!
But not everyone holds the pedal down,
Blowing, over the limit, through town,
and so I had hope that I had found
Someone not so elsewhere-bound.
One day, I looked up and you weren't around.
In expecting that you'd wait,
There's a truth that I didn't anticipate,
Learning it only once it was too late:
Some don't just leave; they accelerate.
Decades, it took, to remove the gloss,
To learn that at life's core is loss;
All the world's a ride, and that's the cost.
