Dream of my Demise

a photo of a man under the rain

Flickr/Robert Martinez

I look back and I feel the pain,
The soft dirge and a cold driven rain.
Some hearts are broken, some never opened,
All search for words that were never spoken.
The slow procession, the bereft crowd,
My body conveyed in its final shroud;
The spectral audience stirred from their rest
Attend the reception of their newly arrived guest.
That time has passed now and no one can remember.
That solemn day just last December,
All of my dreams, the things I would say
Are just vague shadows in a lost yesterday.
But, that certain sparkle in my daughter’s eyes,
A vestige of me then her mother cries.
My familiar strut and silly smirk
Revealed through a stranger at my sister’s work.
We are never forgotten though it may seem,
Then I wake up from my demise in a dream.


Issues |Death

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