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Later
Author: Shiloh

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I am afraid.
There is so much undone,
so much to sort out,
to make sense of...
and it fills me with dread.

I have too much to do,
and I worry that I won't have enough time,
and it won't be right, at the end.
If it ends that way,
then nothing will have mattered.

I think that scares me more
than the thought of the ending.
The undone in one life
should be minimal.
But what if it isn't?

Mine is a problem
that I have built myself;
putting things off,
setting things aside,
for Later...

It is Autumn, now...
and I have a sense of unease,
a feeling of discomfort,
because what if it is too late
to change Later into Now?

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Comments on this poem/writing:

anonymous (71.217.41.146) -- Thursday, November 22 2007, 01:52 am

Like this poem alot

This is me in a nutshell. I have so much to do and the list gets longer and longer. I don't think there is enough time or a end. Those things are still in the same spot. It's been 16 yrs. now. Ha,ha,thanks Shiloh, laters bro!
 
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