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Wing

One day I was told
one day you will understand
The day is not yet ripe can be
is it already gone
or is it inevitable to be ignored

We leave life as you enter
presbyopia
low
neutral
We marvel at what we give to
and live on credit
routed on feelings
Between embrace and abandonment
love hollowed in torment
An outbreak
fasteners
Can Pile
Rate hate
flow aversion
Then, as any born affliction
Takes Root nothingness

We enter the death as one leaves the quiet life

or tormented

with feverish happiness that flew
or suffering bad luck that we won