PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm not so much afraid of death
I'm more afraid I'll leave this place
and no one will be any the wiser
that I was ever here
so, I try so hard to leave behind
some small parts of me that others
in the far off future can read about
and maybe come to revere
when I am forever from this world gone
I pray I will be allowed to be at one
with the dawn
my sincerest wish is that my work will surpass
others and survive
and they will become my heart and breath
(these poems)
when I am no longer alive
perhaps it is indeed morbid to think this way
but I am a real person not some one dimensional
character in some awful off Broadway play
I have so much to live for and things
still left to do
I don't want to die so young
you see there is still so much to be said
about the soul still so very unsung
beauty can be found anywhere
even in the greatest crisis
but what I'm looking for is the question of
is there anyone besides our sweet Lord
who can tell me just why this is
the world devours all or most of our certainties
comprehending such a vague yet all encompassing
statement takes years and only comes to one in
small varying degrees
I don't really know who I am
I don't know who exactly are my so called friends
I'm not even so sure where the beginning begins
and the end ends
to the heart so helpless my mind so often gives in
there is no battle so great though that together as
one fighting force they can not win
I don't write out of want
I write out of desperate need
to others I may appear to rudely taunt but only if
my strange works they dare choose to even try to
read
every time I pick up this pen I plant another seed
my thoughts are just my mental blood and I daily
let myself bleed
my modicum of control
I will this time not attempt to exceed
but since you my dear reader have been
so gracious
as to go where I the writer lead
you I will let this time instead proceed on
without me.......
(written June 4,1991)