Epitaph, Entreated

 

It’s just my bones that lie here,

I want it written on my grave,

as my soul was sold so long ago,

so keep your prayers, and save

your tears; for the years I gave

you are worth more than the loss.

Wherever I am, I love you,

don’t be cross. I ask one last thing

of you, my one wish, my final boon,

live your life, be free and please;

don’t come and see me soon.

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Epitaph, Entreated

It’s just my bones that lie here,

I want it written on my grave,

as my soul was sold so long ago,

so keep your prayers, and save

your tears; for the years I gave

you are worth more than the loss.

Wherever I am, I love you,

don’t be cross. I ask one last thing

of you, my one wish, my final boon,

live your life, be free and please;

don’t come and see me soon.

Porcelain

I know you’re not shatterproof,

though not a china doll,

your façade, prettily painted,

my faint heart aches to see

beyond the spoof,

inside the soul, the tainted

saint, tattooed; breaks.

And can I glue the pieces

back together? Make you

believe the damage – lost

no value. Can I iron out

the creases, sever the knot

beneath; that secures the cost?

Can I? Can you?