After a Time by Catherine Davis

After a Time

After a time, all losses are the same.

One more thing lost is one thing less to lose;

And we go stripped at last the way we came.

Though we shall probe, time and again, our shame,

Who lack the wit to keep or to refuse,

After a time, all losses are the same.

No wit, no luck can beat a losing game;

Good fortune is a reassuring ruse:

And we go stripped at last the way we came.

Rage as we will for what we think to claim,

Nothing so much as this bare thought subdues:

After a time, all losses are the same.

The sense of treachery--the want, the blame—

Goes in the end, whether or not we choose,

And we go stripped at last the way we came.

So we, who would go raging, will go tame

When what we have we can no longer use:

After a time, all losses are the same;

And we go stripped at last the way we came.