Why is it that the one thing that builds me up,
by Philip St. Cyr
is also the one thing that destroys me?
I can't live with it,
but, yet I can't live without it
This is so critical to my survival,
yet it is slowly wasting my life away
is if it were a poison that heals, but then destroys
I watch my life come apart without it,
but with it, I survive
It continues to keep me alive
at least for the time being,
until eventually time runs out.