Ashes

nothing’s left but the crying
the memories of what could have been

the busty woman you always dreamed of
after that night of your first drunk
wondering if she’d be the one to hold close

you, still a boy who thought otherwise
terrified by the constant draw of exploring
what was partially hidden before your eyes

****

nothing’s left but the crying
the what-ifs of an old man wanting to return

those decisions made in a moment
hate, greed, the want overriding the need
blind alleyways now gone as you are much older

the condemnations suffered as you matured
the false starts because, well, because
it’s too late to wonder why it all happened

****

nothing’s left but the crying
purchasing a hole in the ground, your immortality

the hope and promises all but forgotten
to all but the few, those who cared, maybe
assembling one more time, to give their last goodbyes

those who’ll read the inscription, first and last name
year of birth, year of death, as your ghost watches
the come and go of the ground keepers

****

nothing’s left but the crying
unaware of the changing seasons you once knew

and you wonder if they will remember your soul
and you wonder if your journey was a good life
while the ashes left begin to mix with the soil