Achievement

of late
my  mind has been
much  occupied
with the process
of dying
of not being
of unravelling
the long string
and drifting
to a strange place
of which
we  know nothing
but can speculate
much

so I wake
each morning
to the first of the light
and try not to
waste the seconds
looming  hugely
in my  sight
so aware
of each tick
loud in my  ear that
I leap from
bed struggle
into my  clothes
and go  and
do  something
anything worthwhile
which will fill
each passing fleck
of time
to its utmost

so  I endeavour
to not be guilty
of the worst crime of all
that of dying after living
a life
of wasted  time
achieving
nothing  -

I have a horror
of being tried and found
wanting

previous poem