#355 Only A Memory Poem by Jimmie Arrington

Day One
An average day has just begun
But I'll never see the night.
Tragedy cannot be undone,
Nor prevented by foresight.

The ticking stops, time stands still.
A high-pitched ringing fills the air.
Up my spine I feel a sharp chill
And my eyes cast a vacant stare.

Day Two
The last breath my lungs took in
Was taken twelve hours ago.
I can't feel the sun on my skin;
I can't smile or say hello.

Day Three
They laid me on a cold steel slab
Where a dim light dyes me grey.
It seems I'm in a doctor's lab;
Sharp tools are placed on a tray.

A few small incisions are made.
Red liquid flows slowly away.
Formaldehyde as soft as suede,
Streams to delay the decay.

Day Four
I've become rather pale and blue,
I hardly recognize myself.
They paint my face a natural hue
From a bottle on the shelf.

They wash my hair and towel it dry,
Then attempt to brush it right.
They dress me in a suit and tie
And knot my church shoes tight.

Day Five
Family and friends are gathered nigh
To see me rest peacefully.
Some hold my hands while they cry
And some don't want to see.

Day Six
Kinder words have never been spoke
Than those just spoken of me.
White flowers lay upon the oak,
My new home within a tree.

Now sorrow cannot be kept hid,
With such a sudden sever.
They gradually close the lid
And light is doused forever.

I'm driven to a grassy hill
On a morose cloudy day.
And last goodbyes begin to spill
As I'm lowered into the clay.

Day Seven
A week has passed since I met my fate
And I'm fading rapidly.
Now I'm just a name and date;
I am only a memory.