Last Visitor
TAG: poetryO, Death... Is it you,
there knocking at my door?
I don’t remember that
I invited you…
But you will just
come in anyway.
Look, here’s my agenda,
tomorrow I had
a meeting,
and the day after is my wedding.
What is in your hand,
what do you want to show me?
My possibly children
that I won’t see.
Ok but, do I have time
to finish my wine?.
Can you close the window?
Yes, it’s cold here.
Here look, my photo album,
it’s me as a baby.
How cute, huh!..
Come, let me show you my grandpa,
he was 80 when he was…
What? You know him
already.
My last visitor,
would you have a drink
with me?.
I want to be a good host,
because life wasn’t a
good host to me.
No, has my time come?..
But then, now, this
is the end?
Do you want me to
hold your hand?
Ok, then.
....
Good God, is it me
there, laying on the couch?
I look so
empty.
(Inspired by a Sandman story)
2 Noises:
I really like this poem! (I especially like poems on darker subjects like death.) I especially liked how you closed with
"Good God, is it me
there, laying on the couch?
I look so
empty."
Again you have helped me get my mind off my crappy life (LOL). Thanx. :-)
M.
Hmmm....quite thought provoking really. Makes one review their life to test how empty they are.
So, what of this festive season.....
Shall I walk through this life as full as the cup of wine I drink, or as empty as the glass of bourbon fallen by the bar?
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