Unbegone

I don't want to be like paint that never dries
or a road without an end.
I don't want to see a sun that never sets,
or a road that never bends.


I don't want to leave debris behind
that clutters up that space.
An end that's clean is what I hope,
shutting the door without a trace.


I don't suppose it will happen.
We linger on.
Messy and indefinite our end.
 Unbegone!