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).