Analysis of I have to admit...

The sun is making an effort
To chase away the clouds that mark the day
There is something sinister in the air
A sense of loss – depression, senselessness
Some days do that, without a warning
They string together and become furled
In droopy mental modes, spreading grim awareness
of utter uselessness amidst a hectic world

He left almost two years ago
The signs had been abundant: he had become frail
His usual sharpness was gone. He barely spoke --
Had a hard time remembering the name of a fallen icon:
Muhammed Ali. So he called him Cassius Clay.
Nothing seemed to matter to him anymore
Even his perpetual craving for a cigarette was gone
His mind was drifting, and finally his breathing stopped
He pulled the plug on life. And on my zeal to go on.

Fast forward: two years later.
The plug has not been restored.
Sun, wind, bird, squirrel, flower, or tree:
They’re appreciated for who and what they are
But they miss the allure to reach inside of me
Where the exit of a bright spirit, once my silent zest,
Left a deafening hole, reducing my vigor
To unfulfilling mechanical performance at best

How long will this last? There’s no telling.
It’s like the ebb and flow of the ocean
Sometimes it subsides, and I think it’s gone
But then it returns, like a familiar song
If only someone knew where he went – how he’s been
What happens when something solid scatters?
We don’t know until we’re there, so why even care…
Meanwhile I have to admit: little matters.