Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2023
What If these were our last good days
We’d ever have to live,
What would be the purest way
To utilize their gift?

What if these, your last good days;
We’re passing by unclaimed?
Would knowing that you wasted them
Haunt those that still remain

What if you miss the last setting sun
Before the supernova arrives;
And in an instant, oblivion comes
To take up all our lives

What if you fall to endless sleep
in moonlit starry night,
never again to wake from sleepless
slumber to see the light.

What if these are your last good days,
Before feebleness takes your mind,
before your body breaks
upon the rocky shores of entropy and time?

If these are the Last Good Days,
Would you count them all well spent?
What if THIS is the LAST Good day?
Is wasting it worth the risk?
What if these are the last good days
you ever have to live?
What if tomorrow brings with it oblivion;
Or worse yet, a soul-crushing annui?

What if you miss the last sun setting
before the supernova arrives;
The last 8 minutes after the sun burns out
Before the darkness takes your eyes

What if you fall to sleeping endlessly
in moonlit starry night,
never again to wake from sleepless slumber to see the light.

What if these are your last good days,
Before feebleness takes your mind,
before your body breaks
upon the rocky shores of entropy and time?

If these are the Last Good Days,
Would you count them all well spent?
What if THIS is the LAST Good day?
Is wasting it worth the risk?
T R Wingfield
Written by
T R Wingfield  40/M/Deep in the Heart'o'Dixie
(40/M/Deep in the Heart'o'Dixie)   
  321
   Lori Jones McCaffery
Please log in to view and add comments on poems