silence

What are we other than empty ?

Many will try to fill the void inside themselves,

however, they fall short. Landing on their hands and feet

like cats but without the nine lives.
 

With one life instead  that has an expiration date unknown to us,  

yet many create their own about one every sixteen minutes.

Ropes,  bullets ,  and pills to name a few of our fatal friends

that will help end the thought of this void.

Now it’s too late and nothing can be done.  

Without thought or with hundreds of them they are gone.

Where they go no one is sure of. It might even

be worse than where they were before.

It might seem like a mistake or tragedy but it's too late.

It has been done and so the emptiness is no longer present.