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.