Everything passes. It has to. That's the beauty and tragedy of it.
“Give me a story,” I said to life.
resplendent with color and vigor and beauty.”
“Give me your soul,” retorted life
“Your peace of mind, whatever makes you whole.”
So here I stand bartering,
Without a backward glance or a quake in my heart.
Hoping my purse is left with something more
than mere regrets in the end,
Like pocket change that has long gone
Out of fashion.