Last Rights
"I am not sorry
for the things that I have done.
I do not regret
my gray hours here.
My thoughts drift
to the freedom of my youth.
My understanding transcends
the walls of the conscious.
This gathering is appalling
and insults my memory.
Your looks cannot hurt me;
you cannot regain what's lost.
The darkness of this room
is contradictory to it's purpose.
The preacher present mocks me;
he's paid by the hour.
Do not cover my head;
I wish to see.
Do with my body
whatever you wish.
Deliver my letters
to a local sunday school.
Tell my peers farewell;
tell them it was quick.
Now if you'll be so kind
as to flip the switch."
He shook and returned his last meal.
The observers depart
justified.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
