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Jul 2012
In his final moments
He clutched his sheet in fear
Staring at the wallpaper
He knows his time is near

The unshaded lightbulb
The dust around the room
Black mould in the windowsill
Adding to the gloom

Loved ones stand around him
For their tearful last goodbyes
Forever shall be without him
But he cannot reason why

His thoughts now are desperate
And nothing shall they gain
But to toy with logic, reason
Might help to ease the pain

The universe for him
Is not beyond the sky
For when his time expires
His universe will die

He recalls a varnished box
And now his fears somehow subside
It was stored in an upstairs cupboard
Where he sometimes used to hide

The distinctive smell of varnish
The rusty broken locks
Tins of enamel paint
Occupy the box

Time seems at a standstill
As he revisits his past
A time once thought forgotten
He prays this time to last

He opens up the fusty box
To take a look inside
His father's name inside the lid
Consumed is he with pride

His loved ones weep with sorrow
As he walks his final mile
His body still and lifeless
He exits with a smile
Paul F Clayton
Written by
Paul F Clayton
793
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