I had longed for the end
with every breath and
waking moment
during disappointments,
and heartaches,
hardships, and pain, through
embarrassment and shame--
in the midst of defeat and
tears-- I had longed,
desired, wished for
the end which was long
in coming. I would
look, but it would tarry.
I would search, hope, dream, yet
it remained elusive; far off.
Time lingered,
the days wore on. All
too slowly the years passed.
And now . . . now
I'm facing death. The
end is at hand. All
my life I cursed its
slow approach,
but, alas,
it has come too soon.
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