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My Last Poem
Will my last poem
be something simple,
like taking a final breath,
or will I have time to write
something longer, say an
epic--for truly every life
ever lived has been an epic:
full of courage and cowardice,
heartbreak and newborn love,
things found and things lost.
It takes guts to live-- bad people
doing bad things, mother nature
turning on us, giving blue sky
in the morning and a tornado
in the evening to suck up life.
For 100,000 years 10,000 ills
plagued us, wrecking our bodies,
often killing us like swatted flies.
In the end, everyone is murdered.
Hard, hard life is-- still, we love it
at its best, when, like a pleasant
dream, life brings happiness, hope.
So I offer this as my last felt poem,
more a prayer really: forgive us,
keep us, and lead us all home....
(final draft written 8/27/15)