Closet Skeletons

Even when we are wayward particles

built of collected gas and dust

wafting through empty space--

even then, we will remember.

Most memories fade with time,

but what remains are the paths not taken,

the lines not crossed,

the misuse of time.

It is the manipulation of our fellow man

and the abuse of our home.

What is left are the exploits,

stinking of guilt

and marred by the awareness

that we are the skeletons

of our own closets.

For eventually,

what you take advantage of

disappears.

(Ignorance only imparts

fleeting happiness).