Terse lines seem to represent themselves fully
Confident that no more could be added
Might a life of any sort find itself with the same concise
answers to the question of how long?
Even those terse lines wonder if they've gotten their point across
A hundred years will always wonder
About the first day of the next century
A novel begging for a sequel
The sequel a trilogy
And the trilogy a prequel
For more days can come
From either side
As long as they're added
To this unquenchable thirst
So no optimization
Could meet the parameters
Of bacteria
That can't be enough
Of organs
That's can't be played enough
A concert that could go on forever
Playing until the ears ran out
Would want a little more
Roman Ryan 