Round trip ticket
Though I really don't care
Little for me here
Nothing left for me there
To come back again
Exactly where is home
Where one places things?
Or where the Spirit goes?
Fight to breathe
When we are born
Mend the peices
when we are torn
Masquerade
As living, beings of light
All the while
Our hearts are darker than the night
When it all comes down
Crashing, broken at our feet
A moments wonder
To wander the city streets
The lid of a casket
Gently lowered, sealed tight
Takes with it the dawn
And my hope, and any sleep this night
Complete is my sorrow
Hope abandoned to loves choke-hold
My body is yet young
But my spirit and mind, strained, cold
Author notes
R.I.P. cuz.
A contest entry
- End of the Line by Koenigsreich.
1000 points, ended August 3, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Ouchies. I know what it is like to have a friend die, but I was never able to make it for the funeral. I regret those things, simple things like being able to make it that last time to say goodbye, that my job takes from me. Hugs, and God bless, because nobody should have to have that happen.
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