Note: No profile exists for this entry - most likely it was deleted.
Toward the shuffling gait I know
I must, like mortal others, go.
I could swim against the tide
but senescence will humble pride
and having seen how life corrupts;
how carelessly it interrupts
unbidden, its unwritten span,
I’m inclined, while I still can,
to exit, with my self intact, and
make my last, a conscious act.
The 'conscious act' of death - now there's a humdinger of a thought. May you be so blessed.
I totally echo M.C.'s sentiments. Rhyme and meter are refreshing.
Travis Brow
Fri 28th Nov 2014 14:59
That's a very nice comment M.C, thank you. I wish the topic wasn't so grim but there you go...human decline is rarely joyful.
It's always a pleasure to read the contributions
from this source. Disciplined yet wide-ranging
in vocabulary, inventive and thought-provoking
...worth anyone's time.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses only functional cookies that are essential to the operation of the site. We do not use cookies related to advertising or tracking. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Travis Brow
Wed 3rd Dec 2014 06:23
Cynthia, thank you. I've had the first line in my head for years but my aunty recently moved to a care home and as her dementia worsens it strikes me, whilst visiting her, and witnessing the condition of some of her fellow residents, that when and if i succumb, i don't intend to live with it while it slowly robs me of myself. The rest of the poem grew from this.