"And if i’m to die before we spend a soft day
Know my final thoughts will be of regret.
If I'm to drown in the deep sea that parts us
I once lived and loved, don’t forget
Give my paintings to Alice
Tell all my good friends
That I didn’t dare
Earn their
Respect"
Know my final thoughts will be of regret.
If I'm to drown in the deep sea that parts us
I once lived and loved, don’t forget
Give my paintings to Alice
Tell all my good friends
That I didn’t dare
Earn their
Respect"
I wonder what my final words would be
The last voice to tickle
My ears
Who is going to be the last to bid me farewell
Would they be clowning
Would it be a talk over the phone
Tender, or would I be running off alone
With tears in my eyes, frowning
At what I was told
I wonder
What would be the last scene I behold
A blooming garden from the windows of a hospital room
The landscape of the earth from the height of a mountain
Is it the face of a lover, the kind countenance of my mother
I wonder and wonder
If people would recall my name ten years after
When i'm long bedded in the cold soil
And the waves of grief and turmoil have taken a rest
Would they
Remember me with smiling eyes
And curved lips, would they
Utter ardent prayers in moonless nights
Wishes heavy in meaning yet
Easy on the tongue, like the quips of kin
Fragments of the day to lighten my tight grave
And my
Sack of sins
Would they
Pay to my memory compelled eulogies that lack essence
Or
Put my share aside when they dole
Would they think of me
When they gaze at a painting that doesn't make any sense
"She would've debased it with guile, that one"
Would they be condoled by my dusty pile of unread books
My violin with rusty screws and profuse Pirastro
Laying on the couch surrounded by pots of agen flowers that I used to sing to
In that bare hall, with echoing walls
Could those who loved me tell that I must've lived with a burning zeal
Yet even more so have longed to leave
As I spaced out lengthily during a meal
Could they have possibly smelt
The smoke coming out of my ears and nostrils
And somehow have known all the way
How I earnestly felt
That I must've loved them more than I have shown
Would they still tag me in old pictures and retell my mirthful stories
Keep my number on their phones
The last of my remainders
A nagging reminder of my fading existanse
Before my soul
Was let free
Would they recall my life for the rest of their lives
Or
Mourn its end for mere seconds ?
Insecurities, absurd, late adolescence anxieties stirred
Frolicking in my head
Would they repeat these rhymes in my trembling voice, at moments shaken
At times strong
Fill between the widened lines and empty spaces
The codes and cogent phrases I'll take along
When I'm long
Dead
?
The last voice to tickle
My ears
Who is going to be the last to bid me farewell
Would they be clowning
Would it be a talk over the phone
Tender, or would I be running off alone
With tears in my eyes, frowning
At what I was told
I wonder
What would be the last scene I behold
A blooming garden from the windows of a hospital room
The landscape of the earth from the height of a mountain
Is it the face of a lover, the kind countenance of my mother
I wonder and wonder
If people would recall my name ten years after
When i'm long bedded in the cold soil
And the waves of grief and turmoil have taken a rest
Would they
Remember me with smiling eyes
And curved lips, would they
Utter ardent prayers in moonless nights
Wishes heavy in meaning yet
Easy on the tongue, like the quips of kin
Fragments of the day to lighten my tight grave
And my
Sack of sins
Would they
Pay to my memory compelled eulogies that lack essence
Or
Put my share aside when they dole
Would they think of me
When they gaze at a painting that doesn't make any sense
"She would've debased it with guile, that one"
Would they be condoled by my dusty pile of unread books
My violin with rusty screws and profuse Pirastro
Laying on the couch surrounded by pots of agen flowers that I used to sing to
In that bare hall, with echoing walls
Could those who loved me tell that I must've lived with a burning zeal
Yet even more so have longed to leave
As I spaced out lengthily during a meal
Could they have possibly smelt
The smoke coming out of my ears and nostrils
And somehow have known all the way
How I earnestly felt
That I must've loved them more than I have shown
Would they still tag me in old pictures and retell my mirthful stories
Keep my number on their phones
The last of my remainders
A nagging reminder of my fading existanse
Before my soul
Was let free
Would they recall my life for the rest of their lives
Or
Mourn its end for mere seconds ?
And would they
Read these words ,with dread laden
Affable confessions and delightful visionsInsecurities, absurd, late adolescence anxieties stirred
Frolicking in my head
Would they repeat these rhymes in my trembling voice, at moments shaken
At times strong
Fill between the widened lines and empty spaces
The codes and cogent phrases I'll take along
When I'm long
Dead
?
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