Do We Have To Die

Do We Have To Die

Do we have to die to matter,

to finally be counted and known.

Why does life wait for endings,

before truth is fully shown.

We walk past each other daily,

eyes fixed on surviving the day.

Saving love and forgiveness,

for a time that slips away.

Time moves quietly ruthless,

never stopping to explain.

Teaching us value through loss,

again and again.

We chase futures like promises,

while ignoring the breath we take.

Living as if tomorrow is owed,

not something fragile to break.

Do we have to die to be precious,

to be missed, remembered, named.

Why does absence teach presence,

what life could never quite claim.

If endings are what wake us,

then what a cruel design.

To only understand living,

when we are out of time.

I want to matter while breathing,

while my hands can still hold.

To love without waiting for loss,

before my story is told.

Do we have to die to be real,

or can living be enough.

Here, imperfect, unfinished,

already deserving of love.