Put your boots on
When you enter the kitchen
And step carefully
Through broken china
Sometimes the Ending
Is only a burnt tortilla
With the face
Of Jesus
We talk of the Ending
In low tones
Fearing the unknown
We speak of lives lost
And suffering to come
As if these things
Aren’t just the chorus
To the song
Maybe we can only know
The tragedy of Ending
After it’s over and done
Through songs left unsung
Artwork left unfinished
Books left unwritten
The collective works
Of broken souls
In burned out mobile homes
That would have let the rest of us know
That we aren’t alone
And that we’ll always have a home
To go back to
Damn it
The world cannot end today
We’ve still got work to do
And we never really know
Where or when
We will see
God’s face
Again
