Only Here Once

I am but a shadow of the former me,
The me you seek is no longer here.

Life, the dregs from a fine bottle of wine,
The end does not make the rest of the bottle less sweet,
Clear as day I see you,
For you are there to be seen.

Untold riches await you,
I have spent mine,
The bows and arrows seek me out,
Wherever I may travel.

Is it better to be remembered for greatness
Or just great to be remembered?
What a puzzle,
The corner pieces are missing.

Take all that you can carry,
For the load I bear is grand,
We should not share it,
I couldn't bear it,
Minutes fly when second hand.

I missed the boat,
So instead I stand in awe,
At the riverside or by the shore.

'There'll be another one along soon, ' he said,
But this one I shall not meet,
For it sails to see old Cerberus,
And I haven't brought a treat.

So I teeter on the edge,
Not daring to plunge forward
Nor coward enough to step back
From whence I came.

Should I stay?
Or go?
It twists and turns in my brain,
Like a kink in a rope.

'Same again? '
Yeah might as well squire,
No sense in nonsense,
Have one with me won't you?

All the bits and bats,
And tit for tat,
And kit with kat,
Everyone points a finger.

Down the garden path we go,
Merrily rocking to and fro,
And all of this just goes to show,
How did Mary's garden grow.

by Scott Wilcock

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