Last Words Poem by bob barci

I, as member of this home called Chumley,
shall be flying from the coop shortly,
leaving behind strangers, friends, loved ones.
I prayed that the days of goodbye would not come,
but the days have arrived anyway,
and I grow to hate the word even more.
It's warm here in our home,
so why am I shaking as I write this?
Just the thought of going
fogs these brown windows of mine.
Hey, I know I'll be seeing you again,
but somehow it just won't be the same.
A segment of my life in ending
and giving birth to another.
Goodbye, Chumley, goodbye.
Goodbye, I hate the word.
For those of you who never knew me,
yes, there is a person within me.
If you're still wondering who he is,
maybe you should have taken time
to sit down and find out.
I'm shivering and I don't know why.
It's probably the thought of change of lifestyle.
From home to who-knows-where.
I've been told to make room for the changes,
but I don't know if I really want to.
Alot has happened in the last few months,
nothing of which will be lost.
So, as I sit there in my packed V.W.,
I shall gaze upon Chumley, my home,
and as watery drops appear on my windows,
my last words shall be spoken
and I, shall drive, away.

dedicated to Windham College of Putney, Vermont.