You’ll Get to the Middle at Last

While you live, you live
Your life at the front
Tip of the nodule
Pressing into dark
Dirt of what comes next,

Always at the front,
Pressing into next,
No matter what kind
Of life you’re living,
Or what next you find.

But, as you might know,
You won’t keep living
Very much longer,
Much less forever,
And could stop today.

A strange thing happens
To your life after
Life. Your life itself,
This one you’re living,
This one then ended,

Stays part of what was,
Cannot be undone,
But moves to the back.
All lives lived up front
Last in middle past.