we can only hope

little of this survives

that we leave no evidence

of the thinning of our minds

of our compression of thought

of the thin, fragenced slivers of promotion

that fall from the pages of our lives

what will they think?

our children?

when they discover

we gave it all up

sitting on the couch

paging through the pages

sniffing only possibilities

will we be judged?

for this lack of effort

for our willingness

to accept

only the tiniest slice?

let's hope no one important is watching this...

the sweet smelling death

of possibility