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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


“home” was inspired by a sermon by a prominent baptist preacher.

Submitted: August 15, 2018

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Submitted: August 15, 2018

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When memory fades
And I require crib notes
Written boldly on, a crumply page
Aides-mémoires, of what
I came here to do
When my sight grows weary and dims
And my visions are blurred and skewed
And grow weaker, my limbs
As unhinged, as the wobbly knees
Of an old, stubborn mule
Or, the staggering hind legs
of a lethargic, newborn colt
And a rare, raw pain 
Through this earthly vessel, jolts
And the strands of my hair
turns stringy and grey
Alike the withering moss
on hometown trees, that prey
When over there,
That place called, Paradise 
Seems better, than over here
This place of suffering misery,
And ultimate demise
My earthly home
This place where,
The pursuit of happiness
Takes me to the west end of nowhere
With street signs reading,
“Nobody Knows, and Nobody Cares”
There’s a happiness, in which I rejoice
A sanctity,
In which, I find peace
In a cacophony of sounds,
My soul cries out! 
In a sweet release!
About a peace, 
surpassing all understanding
Causing me to smile
Without any reason to doubt
That the darkest days of my life
Will last only, for a little while
And a trumpet sounds
Within my soul,
As pain wraps my body
Gripping and cold
I rejoice, for this I know,
I ain’t got long, to stay here
My Maker soon, will be comin’ for me
To ascend me to that place
Where I out to be

 


© Copyright 2018 Anthony J Mungin. All rights reserved.