Short Unsewn Poems

its the end inside my head
  i must say goodbye my dear 
friend 

im entering the unknown
im slowly starting to unravel 
and become unsewn
 you must not figure who i am 
for i am no one 

no one to be loved, no one 
forgotten, no one to grieved 
when the end is truly received
 
i will not be one loved, i will 
not be one forgotten
  for there there there is 
nothing to forget
  but this mere note of 
uncertainty and confusion...

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The pair should be headed for fame
Behind, in the draw’r, out of aim.
     He was the one left,
     Not right; he’s bereft.
The sock was not chosen for game.

The sock was not chosen, and why?
Embarrassing gaff, he could die.
     Uncool was his sole.
     Unsewn, had a hole.
His match did not stop to say bye.

The right, he returned, with his win.
New left was alright with his skin.
     Ignored was old sock.
     Tossed out like a rock.
He’s bitter and holey as sin....

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I flipped a cigarette into the well,
Then an explosion came from hell.
You think I jest, how could this be?
I must be distressed, in my own company.
In my own company?
You mean I am alone?
If so who are all those around me,
Who made my tombstone?
In each life there is also death,
But in death there is also life,
For nothing is ever wasted.
The unknown is unsewn,
But is all around my headstone.
Someday I will know,
All there is to know, 
But on that day,
I will be no more....

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