Wasted

The walls are caving in on the dreams that once stretched out
to the end of the sea.

The logical Age of Reason has been reinvented
in response to the Romantic
drowning in the bathtub.

Hands reach out
but only for some thin air and dust

Finally caught in my throat,

And I choke

On the reality of all that will never come to be.

In passing up this life,

I wait for the next.

When this life drips down the drain

I will laugh

At death

And at myself

For wasting so much space

In this emaciated time.