Someone could have told me then

 
Someone could have told me then
how it would end
that it would end too soon
and then what need to act it out
progress through, scene by scene?
We could have spared ourselves the pain,
the chore, of facing each old day again.
And yet I disagree
for everything must end
what more can knowledge bring
when every minute was itself
a minute end
and more
the stirrings of another hour or day
or week?
What strength the cry
of ending? More treasures fall
to those who live the present,
its all-continuing beginnings.
 
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