Some people reach a place in time where they've gone as far as they can.
A place where wives and jobs collide with desire.
That which is unknowable and those who remain out of sight.
See what it is invisible and you will see what to write.
It was the invisible people he wanted to live with.
The ones that we walk past everday, the ones we sometimes become.
The ones in books who live only in someones mind's eye.
He was a man who was destined to go through life and not around it.
A man who was sure the shortest path to Heaven was straight through Hell.
But the truth of his handicap lay only in a mind both exalted and crippled by too many stories and the path he chose to become one.
His tragic flaw was his romance with all that he saw.
And I guess if people want to believe in some form of justice, then he got his for a song.
And were an epitaph to be his story he'd have a short one ready for his own.
He would have written of him on his stone:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world. -Robert Frost
