scraping through every day pretending that the day never was, the moments and the mistakes never were, there are so many ends one really stands witness, evidence to – some ends with songs unsung, some ends with stories untold, some ends with lives unlived, some ends with starts forgotten – vast variety, a diverse spectrum, ends - an end, an end nevertheless, very end like, difficult to face, hard to digest, end, oh end, oh end, like a falling kite with a broken string marking the end of its flight, like the clear cloudless sky after the rain marking the end of a joyous rain outside the doors and windows - and the end of pleasant nostalgia it summoned inside one’s mind, making one at least wish and long for something endless – like a long senseless line of letters may be, that just goes on and on without an