When I lay dying upon my bed

when only past then lays ahead

With only farewell’s left to bid

I will not say, “I almost did.”

When sheets are warm but cold within

reflecting back on what has been

all the times of profound gladness

I will not say, “I almost had this.”

The ripples of my life to fade

I’ll leave a message well conveyed

as light turns dark from setting sun

I will not say, “I almost won.”

photo credit

via Almost