Hole

As we grow old,
we're aware that our bodies grow weaker.
We may reflect
and get lost in the woods of regret,
think of all we’ve missed
and so much
we would like to do over.

The body's goal?
Simply put, procreation and death.
As a truth, too brief.
We need more than dying and sex.
And, of course, there’s money.
After all,
even addicts must exist!

And what of that void in the self
that requires beauty,
the need to fulfill and complete?
Such hunger, long ignored,
hollows out a hole
that shortly becomes the true self:
a large room with no windows,

no shelves, where the self gets lost,
just as much
as with craving for drugs,
position, or money;
or may just be overcome
with greed
or the need to inflict pain on others;

or, at last, ignore the soul,
proclaim only the body and its needs
that, once fulfilled, leaves nothing for you to give
or another want.
You become scaly skinned and a crawler
who hives alone
and survives only if there’s sun.