Everything has an expiry date.
The carton of milk in your fridge
That has been sitting around for a while
Unconsumed, unwanted, unappreciated.
Love has a ‘Use Before’ label
The only thing is that one
Has to find that label themselves
It roughly translates to:
‘Catch it before it is too late.’
And when that Love exhausts, it will die away
Rarely will it outlive itself.
The expiration of happiness
Is a subjective concept,
Ask yourself the important question:
‘Do you mind eating chocolate
That expired a month before? Or do you crave
A fresh new bar, fit for your new taste?’
Then, there is life
As far as science goes,
We have not witnessed an immortal.
See, the expiration of Life is a touchy subject
It may spoil before its time
Or shine amongst dust on old shelves
And one may take it upon themselves
To choose their own fate, their own expiry date.
Don’t believe the age old lie
That Love, souls and objects are immortal
For the men who said it, died
Probably before they expected.