Monday, April 11, 2011

Long Gone


Long Gone

When I grow so weak that I don’t know I
am me, and find I’m lost in my own mind,
do not  hook me up” where I lie
and thus preserve my decline, as you’ll find
the true me will be long gone.

Don’t circle around my bed as I sleep
in fits, you drinking your coffee or tea
(perhaps trying not to weep),
for I wish to die nicely and neatly;
the true me will be long gone.

Long ... gone.


  1. I like the voice in this poem. It has a quality of a song. Got a guitar? You should sing this somewhere.

  2. Thank you so much; I do have a guitar--but no voice. Lol. Perhaps I could play and then speak it rather than attempting to sing it...that way, people wouldn't run for the hills!