The Gift of Everything

Almost

And just like that, instantly
Everything i had ever built became history
For my pen could no longer write that story
And i grieve for a life that could've been reality
And my heart cannot pen that poetry

How cruel God could be
To let things happen the way it did
But the blame is not on Him, but me
I know now that "Almost" is life's greatest tragedy

My pen no longer writes
So my hands would write instead
My life shattered and gone
So i grieve, but must start all over again

How cruel of me
To think and believe
That life was meant for me
What good is the next canvas
After painting your masterpiece?
I suppose i'll paint and see.
For now, i wallow in my own insignificance
And learn how to embrace my own tragedy