greenleaf road

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


an old man dreams of having a do over at the end of his life.

Submitted: March 09, 2018

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Submitted: March 09, 2018

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Greenleaf road

 

I grew up in a small southern town, not too far from the biggest city in my state. I could see the blue tinted mountains in the background of my childhood home on Greenleaf road. I remember the brisk autumn mornings at the bus stop, waiting for the school bus, the air filled with the smell of diesel and my friends and other kids bouncing and playing on the school bus.

The life I have lived has taken its toll on my weak frail body and now I look back to those memories wishing I had a do over, maybe hug my mother once more, or work on that ole beat up car that my father thought would run like a top again one day.

Another breath escapes my failing body, as another memory enters my dreams, and I began to wonder how I got here. With faint shadows standing in this dreary room of grey. I could almost make out the voice of my mother and, and, my father telling me to get better so we can get back to work on that ole car.

Here I lye an old man not much left of my old weak body, no family left to say I am sorry for the things I have done, and the man I grew up to be, fantasizing about my parents…this is it, I am left to lose my senses too, I see, it is the justice of it all I guess.

This cannot be I declare, I maybe old and weak and I pray that God has mercy upon me before sending me to my impending damnation, that I will happily except, but only if for once, I get to leave this beautiful world with no regrets.

I cannot take a knee to pray for my forgiveness to my savior who may except me, but I ask of thee, have mercy not upon me, but of the ones that I have been a savage too, I pray you hear me and please show me a sign that I can finally rest, for I have been nothing short of the devil himself to the meek.

“My son remember the days of old when your fondest memories were upon Greenleaf road, I have heard your prayers and so it shall be, for I have the mercy, the forgiveness, and the patients.”

“Stunned you may be, as you walk through the valley, but your sins are mine to bear,” as a voice declared softly to the old weak man.

The old weak man could only make out the shadow of a figure next to his bed as he began to remember the smell of autumn and the vibrant colors of the leaves that littered the trees in the small town with the blue tinted mountains in the background.

The old man thought as he began to feel the touch of something upon his forehead, there may have never been Green leaves on Greenleaf road, but Greenleaf road was my home no matter the oxymoron of the name  

The memories of Greenleaf road will always be with me as I lie here waiting for my last breath to come to an end, I can only think of those fond memories of Greenleaf road. As the old man took his last and final breath he awoke on Greenleaf road as a child standing next to a stranger, “my son you may have one do over, use it well,” the stranger said before disappearing.

 

Mosby


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