Get Your Premium Membership

My Final Masterpiece

When I die, don't let me lie in some godforsaken hole dotted round with frosted stones; arrange for me an alibi – through the purifying fire let love guide my spirit home. Then stir my ash in coloured paint, remembering how I loved the stains colouring my hands and knees. Then load me in a cannon, please – prime a canvas, four by six and fire the paint-and-ashes mix. So may my final masterpiece portray my ultimate release, not to be misunderstood – my heart's creation will be good.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.