Unfinished Books Poem by Johnathan Stokes

There are many unfinished books
sprawled amongst my floor
no bookmarks, just bent pages
with only 20 pages here to go
or 40 here, or a larger book
with 100 or so, I don't really know.
Those unfinished books are like the movies
I still have yet to complete.
On late nights during the week
I'll turn one on then eventually fall asleep,
and the next day one would think
I'd get to finishing up that movie,
learn each character's demise
or the protagonist's prize,
rejoice at the happily ever afters
and learn lessons from the disasters…
But I never do finish those movies,
like the books, I too often start anew,
meeting fresh characters, scenarios,
plots and philosophies,
I'm just not caught up in conclusions.
I've heard of using something as the means to an end,
how about having past means for the future I'd ask?
But then they say I'm denying that there is an end,
like a psychology-infested friend
who told me I'm in denial that conclusions come,
but I ask,
'What if I just enjoy imagining them on my own? '
I never quite liked being told what to expect
I'm never really impressed,
after all, who knows what comes after death?
Maybe then I'll get a chance to finish those books
with a better appreciation
from the experience of what it means to have my own story told
and no longer being caught up with telling it.