Cold Hard Truth

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

just on a whimsicle...

I found a letter in my shoe.

Wonder filled my empty head.

Who could this be addressed to?

Having been slid under my bed.

The letter was blank.

Could this be some kind of prank;

Who would leave a blank sheet?

I wonder as i stop to thank

the maker of my humble feet.

Perhaps it is for me to use.

This letter i found in my shoes.

Has not in fact been written yet.

But in my head i have the clues.

Of what it is to write on it.

My goodbye.

I always had a clever eye.

Seeing things before they appear.

I always have known that i would die.

But it has never been oh so clear.

This letter i write.

Should i not last the night.

No one should ever stop to worry.

It is only the beginning of my flight.

To glimpse upon life's jury.

Please read my letter.

I write it to make better.

The meaning of my lifes mirth.

I have no chain no tie nor fetter.

To bind me to this mortal Earth.

So when i am gone.

I wish only to be left alone.

So that i may atlast find rest.

Among the cold sand and bone.

That is my once heaving breast.

Submitted: April 07, 2009

© Copyright 2020 Bo7Filip. All rights reserved.

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