Robert Horton Poet Rhyme

The Chronicles of a Dying Man

The Chronicles Of A Dying Man 

From an immaculate birth
When the whole world smiled, 
Midst celebration and mirth 
And emotions running wild, 
So, how on earth 
Was I an unwanted child? 

I was a perfect baby;
Full of love and potential, 
To my mother, no lady, 
No more than consequential, 
Maybe, just maybe, 
I would prove non-essential.

So as a growing boy
I tried hard, as expected
And learned many a ploy
To be accepted 
But like my old broken toys
I was destined to be rejected.

As a young man, withdrawn,
Suffering a world and its taunting, 
All the bullying and scorn 
In my mind, still haunting, 
And every new dawn 
Became ever more daunting.

And through middle age I strode 
From mistake to mistake, 
So many forks in the road 
But the wrong ones I would take,
Where my mind would explode
Leaving crisis in its wake. 

As an aging man I wept 
For every love lost and regret, 
For the memories never kept 
Of the people I had met, 
Becoming ever more inept 
And, in my ways, I was set. 

Now dying, my breath
On borrowed skin and bone, 
Repays what is left 
Of a life I never owned, 
To an immaculate death 
Where I will never be alone. 

© RJVHorton2015

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

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