What is to Become of Me
What is to become of me?
I feel the warmth of your pulse
as my blood turns cold
and I slip the bonds of this Earthly life
where both pride and ridicule
followed me home like a lost puppy.
I have never been rewarded
for the good works I have performed
but then again, I've never sufficiently
suffered for my many transgressions.
Such is the vain nature of our existence
as perfection alludes us all.
As I shed my tired corpse,
I give thought to the afterlife.
Will I be greeted by those lost
to the old black and white
photos of my adolescence?
Will I swoon with a long forgotten
High School crush as we dangle our toes
in the streams of our youth?
Will I feel my Mother's touch
and gaze into the eyes I remember
with every fervor of my soul?
Will she be pleased with the Man
she has raised?
Will I feel the warmth of the Son
on my face?
Or will my molecules just waltz with others
through an uncaring Universe
intent on mischief and roguery while
riding the wave of some minimal existence
at the speed of light?
Or will the flames of a vengeful deity
consume me for the purpose of providing
some vestige of job security for the
demons of the underworld?
Or has life been a lousy box of Cracker Jacks
with no prize at the end?
I don't think so... but I have no proprietary
information on the subject.
The waiting is almost too hard to bear.
So off I go into the great unknown.
I am hopeful and pragmatic.
But I am ready... Let the journey begin.
*As with so many of you, I have been feeling the weight
of my own mortality lately.
*To those who may be interested, I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day or so.
Copyright © David McHattie | Year Posted 2020
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment