I will not leave a piece of me behind.

My flesh will not reside to melt and drown.

To ask why we did not rebel and fight

When it was clear, it was always clear, that water was the key.

Instead, a trace of play, of moments on the floor.

Words hanging in the air.

Whispers behind the door.

Time to ask questions and look inside

Knowing we were looking at things, from which others would hide.

And I know paper burns, and ink will run and drip.

But I’d rather shape a moment than leave a little one.

Tell of times gone by

To hope that they will learn.

Find the precious in the details, for this was someone’s truth.

Of grief and joy, of light and dark, of old and new

You find stories in everyone; do not forget yourself.

Your intricacies are stories to someone else.

Help others find the space to tear away their mask.

Find structure in the moments and carve it into the dark.

Do not be scared to write of love

For fear it has all be done

The Bard scratched the surface,

There is far more to be sung.

Write the speech

Hear the pause

We are all just floating on this earth

Time is a construct

Money is finite

But love,

By gosh, is not.

-Abby Hampton

By Abby Hampton.
Meaning of Life (Pending) 2021.

© Abby Hampton 2021