Who?

 

 

Who am I?

Who knows? not I !

Perhaps, I'll find out

when I die

When in the ground 

cross armed I lie

and become 

the congregation spy

Will friends & family

sincerely cry

Or, perhaps pretend

and also lie?

Will I hear truths

I now deny?

Or, will they say

'Oh! What a guy!'

Will happy thoughts

of times gone by

Just turn to thoughts

of buffet pie?

And, later, will sozzled 

minds deny

that there ever was

such a thing as I !

 

So, I guess I'll go

up to the sky

Still not knowing

Who am I ! 😕

 

 

deathLife

◄ Mr Rhubarb

A Better Life ►

Comments

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Stephen Atkinson

Sun 24th Jan 2021 20:58

Thanks for the comment Stephen G. & everyone for the encouraging Likes. Always appreciated 🌷

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Stephen Gospage

Sun 24th Jan 2021 16:13

Very fine poem.

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Stephen Atkinson

Sun 24th Jan 2021 15:37

Thank you, as ever, Keith & Phillipos for your kind comments.
And do we ever really know who we really are? My perception of myself is different to a friend's or work colleagues etc. We are different things to different people. 🤔
And Brian, thanks. Yes, just running down hill to my inevitable end ! 😲

<Deleted User> (18980)

Sun 24th Jan 2021 11:59

Like it but I was out of breath by the end Stephen.

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Philipos

Sun 24th Jan 2021 11:50


How very interesting a poem this on a journey to understand what many of us also struggle to understand 'The Who Am I's' of all existences.

A must read

P

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keith jeffries

Sun 24th Jan 2021 11:39

Stephen,

This superb poem deals with a subject which so many people ponder on. Some of our greatest poets wrote extensively about death as it begs to be addressed. Your words are an echo of poems past yet you have tinged yours with humour which I think sheds a lighter side to a dark subject.

Well done with this poem and thanks

Keith

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