The End
I can’t really see the end of it all
They preach it to me everyday
In silent filled churches, every man for himself in prayer
I keep lighting candles for him
Maybe Frankie made it out of purgatory by now
Death has always been a obscurity
A denial, a joke to me
Kind of like paletas on long ago summer days
Sticky sweet sin melting too fast under the blazing unmerciful heat
drizzling youth onto the street
I can’t believe I’m this old
I often feel like I’m 30 in an 18 year olds body
So wise for my age that depression sets in day by day and hope crams hour by
hour
Like a prescription for death my live ceaselessly demands
I hope you know I fill it everyday at Walgreen’s on the corner by my house
And when I lay awake at night and it’s 3:45 and I can’t seem to get romance out
of my head
Romance hates me, kind of like a conspiracy against my prescription
If I can love then death is a joke
If I loved and he died would it be a joke then?
Not really nobody laughed except me
When his coffin uttered a dry click and all I could hack out was a laugh that
translated into sobs
Is that it? That can’t be it,
But it was and I still remember sometimes his eyes that crinkled when he smiled
Life shouldn’t be this sad
Maybe I missed out on Oprah’s favorite’s episode
When that Dutch oven was given away to the first row
But I keep lighting that candle
It doesn’t really matter because if there is an end the candle might still burn but I
won’t be here to see it
Instead I’ll be waiting at that corner of the street with sugar water coursing
through my veins
Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007
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