Final Wish - Poem by Lance Carthen
He writes himself to death...
Never to see another moon.
A victim to the shadows.
The devils reach always loomed.
Hovering round him, like darkened gallows
A prayer too late, too soon.
Had he passed on tommorow.
His wish would have come true.
But now he lay motionless...
Defeated by life and abused.
In the midst of writing a final poem...
about a wish coming true.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You