PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

How it weighs on my chest

That I once lived

It was a number of years ago

I was merely a boy

A child who knew nothing

I think that is the secret

To be oblivious

To never have known

What I would give

It is too much sometimes

The sand is in the sieve

It will soon be empty

How can one live

And not be consumed by thoughts

Of inevitable goodbyes

Some have already been said

At night I breathe my lover's breath

I dream of running away with her

Of being children, chasing, hiding, laughing

Of lying beneath a plum tree on a bed of grass

Silently watching robins feast in their palace of leaves

When I wake in the morning I eat my stale bread

I leave my home, I say goodbye to my son

His rosy cheeks his giggly laugh

He fills me with joy

He seems to grow by the minute

I leave him for hours with strangers

While I bow to worms and make artificial faces for coin

Why?

I know my end

I know yours

I almost feel omnipotent

Omnipotent and impotent

I am aware

All too aware

Death is the only end I know

It stares at me

And when I smile

I imagine it

To be amused

And I feel foolish

I don't smile often

When I have an idea

A rare spark of excitement

Falling leaves or yellowed paper scold me

"What is the point-

do you think you're special?

nothing you do will last

you shall fade just as we."

I know it is silly

To personify death

I give life to death

So that perhaps it may one day give it back

Oh the desperate schemes one must devise

In the quiet moments alone.