Dying Poet

 

I’m lying on a bed of sweat

Thinking bout what I regret

I’m dying on the outside, It’s eating me alive

I wish I could get out of bed annd relinquish my pride

Times sometimes get you down

But people are always around

To give a helping hand, people

that understand

Just what your going through

A care and a hope that’s true

Take me to a beautiful place

I have a cancer I cannot face

Lie with me on a bed of roses where we’ll stay for days

And we’ll pray for painless days

The nights are long, the days are short

My eyesights blurred, I confuse my thoughts

What a time, for ladyluck not to shine

 

I take it there for me, taking what I cannot see

When he calls I’ll be wearing white overalls

I wonder who will escort me there

To be honest I don’t fucking care

I hope the journeys long so I can sing my final song

Maybe there will be a band in heaven,

We can play the chords together

I know when I get to that place,

I will have a young face

The body of an athlete,

delicate hands that write poetry so sweet

I know just what I’ll need, a whiskey and a strip tease

I can see my bed right now, 4 foot wide and 6 feet high

Or maybe I’ll never sleep,

dry the eyes of the people that weep

There is a day, there is a night

But they don’t mean much right now

 

And some that cared, I realise weren’t really there

Its even more ironic still, the healthy get ill

But all that’s behind, I’m dreaming of idyllic times

Bathe my wounds, heal my scars

Take me to my family, are they far?

 

Times sometime get you down,

but people are always around

To offer you a helping hand

 

Take me to a beautiful place,

 let me have a youthful face

 

And now that I’m leaving you,

I hope you shed a tear or two

I pray that life treats you well,

wish I could stay,

But I know too well

My time has come,

 

 

 

I’m making way for a precious one