Challenge
Write a poem about the way you hope to die.
Spent
Burnt out and burnt up,
a black wick in a pool of
hot wax, smoldering in
stubborn determination
until something blows me
out and sends me unto
oblivion, I want to know
I lived my life and didn’t
leave things to question,
there will be desires that
were not fulfilled, such is
the way of things, but the
QUESTIONS of what could
have been must have been
tried, tested, and found
wanting or made real, I
will never be laid to rest
unless I know I tried to do
that which my passions
dictated, I will roll over in
my grave if I put them on
the backburner until the
embers were cold, my
ghost will haunt the earth
tortured by thoughts of
maybe and might have
been, better to have
chased those dreams
and failed than never to
have chased at all.
6
0
2