The Last Good-Bye

The pain has set in,

And my choice is made,

No one can talk me out of it.

Like the great writer's of the past,

I too shall go to an early grave,

And no mourners will weep.

No cries of sadness,

Just a blank and hollow as ever,

The never ending cycle of death.

No wound I will cause,

No illness will take me,

Just the written word.

I will not take a final breathe,

I will not weep for forgiveness,

I will go on my own.

No Gods can help,

No answer to these feelings,

No tear stained pages will ever fill this heart.

The tears run down my cheeks,

And I quickly wipe them away,

For weeping does no good.

I will not say my last good-bye,

I will not go to an early grave,

But I will with this pain.

And maybe just maybe,

I will be the one talked about,

How poems of pain with hope mend this writer's heart.