To All of You (You Should Stop) by Eric Sparks

Because I love each and all of you
far too much to play this game of possibility;
this game of impossibility;
this act of disappearing.

I try to live my life aware of the possibility;
aware of the probability; understand the weight of what
could happen; try to guess what should happen.

And when I look at you; each of you;
all of you; the weight of “what could” is
far too much; and leaves me feeling crushed;
remember what was, what will and such.

So every day I write the same exact poem,
about each and every one of you; and I’ve written
them every single day for hundreds of years.
But as much as that means, and will continue to mean,
the poem is not very good;
it’s just Webster’s definition of happy.