Reality

Drew Hurley

Nor will I be the last,

Nor can I be the best;

But good, and true,

Perhaps.

Yet good cannot be know,

And truth is relative.

To know the first

Is not to know the last,

And neither can be best.

But not to know the last

Or faint rfecall the first,

And the best can never be known.

Then all go on,

In separate paths,

And that which would be,

Cannot.

.

. I am not the first,

Nor will I be the last,

Nor can I be the best;

But myself, and good;

Perhaps.

And good cannot be known

And myself is but a dream.

And all the others but fantasies,

Illusions,

Created by the loneliness of troubled minds.

And with the roar

Of deafening sparrow wings

We think,

And therefore dream.

Fantasy determines

What our lives shall be.

It is not important what one is,

Or what one has been,

But only what one wants to be.

And that which would be

Can be.

.

. I am not the first,

Nor will I be the last,

Nor can I be the best;

But I am, what I am.

And that which I can be,

I love,

And therefore that I am.

Because I am,

I love,

And all that I have been

Is cherished,

And all that I have loved.

A part of me.

And I,

A part of all those who loved me, too.

And that which would be,

Will be.

.

. I am not the first,

Nor will I be the last,

Nor can I be the best;

But, I am what I am

And that which I can be,

Will be.