January 24, 2012
They are a breath
They are a wish
They are a future groom’s first sight

They are a thought
They are a cry
They matter much to me tonight

As they should to you,
And your companions, more
For here they could end, abrupt
And then what would be your score?

When you cherish your last few,
Will you smile or will you cry?
Will you fill with the warmth of satisfaction?
Or will you feel shame and cold-hearted pain?

Because this could be your last.
This, right here, could be your last moment.
And every moment is so quick
So small
But so much more than we
Give it credit for.
This is why each moment
Needs to be tended for,
Cultivated, nurtured.

Because one day,
You will run out of moments
To dance, to run, to play, to laugh.
You will run out of moments to live.

And, then,
You will have

Look back, and tell me.
Are you happy with that story?
With the story you created
Using just your imagination
And the moments you were given?

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