Last Poem Poem by David McLansky

Last Poem



I am dying every minute
My soul is slipping away
I cannot stop life’s progression
I cannot halt my own decay;

My poetry lays in cartons
Stacked in boxes in my room
My history of failed loving
Dusty echoes of my doom;

My muscles grow more rigid
Self conscious of the pain
I fear the loss of movement
I’ve who moved in vain

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Pradip Chattopadhyay 01 August 2013

take heart, poet, your poems would not be in vain for the posterity. You strike a sad note here, David.

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