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Jun 2017
It's late but still I am awake
slithering soul, tears in a city of angels
hidden and alone, mourning day.

A sheltered concave anonymous cackle mires behind,
I look for something in this finality
and find nothing, I always could before.

My mask falls late at night and early morning,
in a moment with my back turned to the world,
I let my mask slip, and all I find is raw -
the visions seep, all that I saw and see.

A final moment I can never undo, even though I want to
I wish I could save you, I know I can't now, time
machine come, a chance to say a proper goodbye, why
has this happened to you, in your hour of need
I was not there, I remember the way you laughed despite it all,
and smiled.

I can't look at machines anymore, it's a reminder of that.
That final tragic moment that I can't wash now from memory
as much as I wish to, weeping willow tree, alive
with the memory of a man I once knew, living and free.
Your face frozen in my minds eye, why?

I think my mask must fall, and let you in,
a way to grant you access to this world again
for fleeting moments, from the beyond.
Goodbye my blood. Double eyes, seen.
Poem written in response to a recent death in the family
Christopher Paul Godber
Written by
Christopher Paul Godber  31/Cisgender Male/UK
(31/Cisgender Male/UK)   
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