by Steve Gaines

I am chased through time
by the failures and promises of my past
I do not regret so much
as I wonder about them
to be satisfied with the results of my life
is not a matter of final judgment
results can be counted only once I stop moving…
or breathing
death…
of whatever sort…
is the result of having lived…
in whatever life
so to think about “mending my ways”
or simply learning from the errors of the past
are nonsequiturs
errors can become successes
after time rubs them smooth

my past is full of the quick pains of failure
but none of those failures is traced on my gravestone
my present is cast in the pure steel of caution
and living is simply
…a going on

I am more satisfied with my failures
I can not reach perfection
no matter how many new chances I get
I am only imperfect
and can not wish for anything more

my life is a vacuum of ambition
and is scattered with
tiny random islands of successes
and I have learned even less from the success
than I have from the failures
the failures nudged me
with the fleeting pains
and the successes left me only occasional smiles
which can be remembered in the dark
but dreams can only sustain me
until the sun comes up
and the daylight of my
uneventful present condition
sends in its glare of depression…
what a sad condition.