Closure

This insufficient ending.
This abrupt conclusion.
This cursory termination cannot be what it seems.
The last of the credits cannot have rolled up yet.

What of all the half-finished stories?
The unopened biscuit packets.
Promised walks down the midnight hour.
All of that and more.

Some awaiting doors. Are they half-open or half-closed?
How should I see them?
The unwashed pile of clothes
Speaks another tale of unfulfilled chapters.

Now I shall close my despairing eyes
And drift into brief mental oblivion.
Any hope of a new start diffuses into the palpable past.
This cannot be it. I wait for a befitting closure.