There are times
When I feel an affinity
With an old forgotten book
Dusty and worn
With a sad pitted cover
Where the elements and time
Have taken their toll
The chapters of my life
Make no great reading
Like the book
Neither of us is a classic
But we both have a story
To tell
In pages so steeped
Within sadness and sorrow
As great bitterness and regret
Weep from both our spines
And the glue
Which for so long
Bound us both
To our own existence
Had deteriorated
Beyond all recognition
But more than any other thing
The final two words
Of both our journeys
Remain true and constant
“The End”