most of us just die by Michael Peck

I am not a silent poet

most of us just die
never knowing when
the end will come
not well
not aware
filled with those same
uncertainties we carried throughout our life
doubts and shameful moments
that were never discussed
never saw the light of day
age just crept up on us
as we lived our lives
a repetition of learned habits
that felt comfortable
most of the time
except late at night
when we wondered
out loud to ourselves
if there was more.

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