I suppose I started running out of time
The moment I was born.
Everybody who knew tried to tell me.
At first, if experience is any judge,
I scrunched up my face and cried,
Waving my stubby arms around in furious impotence.
Later, when I first thought everything was new,
I toddled around wide eyed
Like things would never end.
Eventually I learned the error of my thinking.
I live in a finite world with finite resources
And I, my present self,
After my many adventures,
Will someday end,
Although on occasion
I will still take myself too seriously,
Toddle around and cry
Over all the spilled milk.
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