A Wreck Of Myself Waits Poem by Doris Cornago

A Wreck Of Myself Waits



A wreck of myself goes on display at the gate
Gawkers line up to view a life that once
Promised so much, plans laid up end to
End, neatly like dominoes waiting
Come aboard all of you and see
What has become of me one
Day when I thought the
World will never end
No one can know
The exact time
Life's prime
Running
Daily
No
Stops
Rushing
Like a train
Someone pulls
The string, ding, ding
Screeching to a full stop
My life's just one messy heap
No strength left to help myself
A pile of clothes unwashed, dishes
On the sink, the morning comes thru slats
Light comes in, flat in bed, gnats on my head
Who let the dogs out, the cats, trampling me down
They come in and stare, choose souvenirs to take away

A Wreck Of Myself Waits
Friday, July 28, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: helplessness,realization,recklessness
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
At the end of your days, you will look back at your whole life and feel like this, that you don't want to go yet but you are being made to get down - end of journey. This feeling comes when somebody has left you, you learned you have a terminal disease or something you have placed your hopes on did not materialize. This feeling makes you realize that you are just a frail human and nothing is really under your control, that even prayers can't delay what has been set all along. You feel a betrayal, the victim of a divine plot, a computer program or a failed experiment from which some force will benefit.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Doris Cornago 28 July 2017

Civilizations come and go, the relics are all that is left of what man has prided himself of achieving, structures of stone, glass and steel, testimonial that man, himself is fragile. Perhaps, that's the true reason pyramids are made, and books written. Or poems express fragile feelings.

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