The Morning Will Be Gone Soon Poem by Shalom Freedman

THE MORNING WILL BE GONE SOON

The morning will be gone soon
With little done
And certainly what I should have done
Not done.

Life will be gone soon
And so much left behind
Unfinished disordered
Years of effort
Years of waste.

But who am I?
And why does it matter?
One more among the billions
Who has been here
And will not be here
Ever again.

The days are passing
The years have passed
My life is almost done
And what have I done?