Things haven’t really gone my way, and I’d like to be done.

Staring at the horizon ahead, the same surreal setting sun.

Wondering how anything might change he sighed alone.

How many years had he glanced at the natural light,

and wondered if there ever might be a time of pause.

Would this night be any different than all of the others,

his speculation with him as early as a young child.

We haven’t the ability to know yet what is a natural loss,

Time spent more imagining how that day might come.

Fleeting moments imagining a natural cause a facade

can be frightening sometimes, so we give them value

for reminding us our days are in someone else’s hands.

So the dusk is upon me now, another sunset witnessed,

and nothing changed, all that he could believe remained.