I will not let my death bore my friends.
Our lives can do enough of that,
and if I am living do not ask me about reruns
or the television. I’d rather be poisoned,
consumed by rats in the ally
behind the dumpster next to a restaurant
that services men when dinner stops.
I do not want to simply fade away,
taken to a nursing home for my golden age
to wade in my misery and filth covered rags.
I will not let my death bore my friends.
I’d take the plunge, sooner than croak
while reading The Times on the toilet seat,
but at least there is humor in that one.
If I do get too old, I hope the kids
will be sensible enough to plant me
as roses in the yard to brighten up their walk
from the car or the view from the porch.
I will not let my death bore my friends,
and if I cannot be one with the roses
let’s hope I go out in a giant fiery explosion.
This is a beautiful and dark poem. Made me want to pray for you.
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Thanks, I was going for a darker voice than I usually write in. Everything on the site is writing from within the last 2 months, except a small handful of poems from over 10 years ago. I only recently picked back up writing poetry after a decade long hiatus. So, I want to mess around and not pin down a style, just yet. I promise I am not as dark as them poem, well, maybe somewhere deep within me. Hehe. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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Welcome and great to know you’re writing poetry again. Similar to my experience although I picked it up about 4 years again, after a gap of about 15 years. I feel like the flow is returning. Pl have a look at some that I have shared in my blog, when you have time. Have a great weekend and God bless.
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