Why can't we be satisfied
to live with desire?
Why do we feel it necessary
To quench every fire?
Why must we posses
Everything for which we pine?
Why should "Because we can"
Be the point where we draw the line?
Why don't we see value
In a modicum of restraint?
Why should gratification
Come in every instant?
Why can't we take for example
Keats's Bold Lover
Though he never had his kiss
He would love forever?
Why can't we accept
The wisdom of history
And in some matters
Live with little mystery?
April 2015
April 2015
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