Fearless Doors Of Death Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Always sorrowful, never far from tears.
As they slip quietly down my cheeks
they rip and tear my heart even deeper
than before.
No longer myself as I gently turn away,
walking through the fearless doors of
death.
Hurt no more by recriminations and
other people's judgements, I run away
from those who left me lying on a sofa
of regret.
Too tired to bother with anyone, pulling
a body bag over my inept being, closing
off my mind forever.

(9/30/96)