The Sip

It happened over the Pacific.

High above the dotted clouds,

     sailing over the sea;

Travelers all together are bound,

     by the breath of destiny;

Surging forward across the globe,

     that once was just too big;

Now enjoying the modern storm,

     with every luxury;

Still our needs are much the same,

     a smile cures all ills;

And all the while we play our parts,

     in the grandest symphony;

The days are just too many to count,

     and still it's but a flash;

When life exhausts its mortal shell,

     we all make history;

But today will soon forget,

     the clumsy hand of fate;

Which grasps its cup to take a sip,

     and spills the whole damn thing.