We are capable of so much.
Yet grasp so little.
Consumed by greed and ego
Both miniscule in the greater scheme
What did all these mean to Titanic's drowning victims?
As the frigid waters enveloped their shivering bodies
Did they cry for one more drink or one more shilling?
Perhaps they came face-to-face with the ultimate fragileness
Craving more time
A hundred years later, we have learned little.
Devouring time even faster with precious nothings
As if it lasts forever.
So frivolous with each other's feelings.
Grasping and clawing our way
Having glimpsed the other side
Not so long ago
Knowing we are capable of so much
Sensing what we can become
How does one tell others?
Yell from the towers?
Or, perhaps, by living the moment
Our only guarantee
Alas, despite my knowing
I am not unlike others
The immortal mortal
Craving more moments
Craving more time.