Fools Alone Are the Ones That Remain

None can choose their origin,

If they could, billions of families would have died childless.

I remember walking by one in the graveyard

May 9 1950 to April 18 2011

The newborns scream and cry when life only first begins.

I remember a young soul disturbed by the noise from the streets in Prague

and the tears in a letter unsent to his father,

and the sea that embraced the lonely ship sailing away

in the strident, stormy dawn

according to the prayers of the drunken sailor.

And remembered are the faces of the wise—

Every one, every single one of them

Who grew exhausted, and bought a ticket

to leave this world behind

And fools alone are the ones that remain.