Forget Me - Not
When my breathless body returns to the earth from which it came,
Let it be known that I tried,
In the face of damnation,
With the manacles of propriety digging deep into my flesh,
And the corpulent greed of the contumacious seeping from every open door,
Let them say that I tried,
Inside this strident existence that we call our own,
Where the fastidious prey on the guileless,
I just wanted to be a luminous beacon of intransigent truth,
A munificent solace for those In need,
I just wanted one zealous moment to make a difference,
And as the remnants of me powder and dust into the soil in which I lie,
Let at least one person say that my life was worthwhile,
That my existence was heuristic,
Because if I am to become just another sorry loss,
An echoed memory only deserving of a sorrowful after thought,
Then what was it all worth,
And more so,
Why then would anyone else bother.
Because if we cannot make a difference,
Then I would rather not be remembered at all.
Copyright © Warren Marc | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment