The Last Words In The Programme Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Words are running out, empty,
little left to write. Looking back
at all the verbs and vowels I've
put to paper in my writing life
amazes me that I've found an end.

So perhaps, with a sigh and smile,
this shall be my form of goodbye.
Thanking all those who have liked
what I have written. And of course
must not forget nasty minded critics.
So many poetic moments that really
defined how I thought and existed.

A man should know when it comes,
the time to begin and the time to end.
As the spectre of death looms ahead,
beckoning like a broken cardboard box
left torn upon the tiled and cold floor.
Not every sound is wasted, for some
noises indicate a determined strength.
Pendulum swings, this way and that,
between the choices left to manifest.
I have, perhaps, few left to make, but
what I do have surely are mine to have.

It is odd how at peace I feel, a sense
of accomplishment that I am having.
Shared so much of myself in so many
kinds of poems. Looked inside and
looked outside, and composed what
struck me as necessary to put down.
Who knows? Maybe a phrase will
drop into my mind, something that
might be necessary for me to share.
If so, I will welcome it like a friend
I've not seen in some time. But if
that phrase does not come, so be it.

I'm pleased with the work I've done.
I am humbled at the published pieces
that have been accepted and approved.
Even the books have given me pleasure,
to know I leave a small legacy behind.
Maybe few read them? Maybe they
are read by lots of folk? Either way,
the words I wrote will stay alive when
my body is decomposed in the ground.

So celebrate with me, do not grieve.
Think of all the good that is out there.
Words may not be coming, but yet
words will always be there. Happiness
is how we find it, and I found mine
in the poetry I've written. Arrogance
is not the word, rather, self realization.
God gives us different skills, talents,
that are ours alone and ours to shared.
He gave me the gift of communication
through the joy of literature. I thank
Him for this skill, this blessing He has
bestowed upon me. And now, the
time has come, I think, to put pen down.
Time to be satisfied with life itself and
realize it has come to the time to stop.