with each poem i die
with each word
the hands wind down
with each letter
the second hand clicks over
moving inexhorably toward my
demise

each exclam and period
punctuate the fact that i am
indeed
dying

every comma digs my grave


ah! but when i go
i shall die a poet's death
i will write about it
every syllable

and i will not be
a light bulb that just sparks out

I WILL BE AS A STAR GOING NOVA*


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(c) 6/11/2015