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what happens
when the money runs out when I loose my looks when I can no longer walk talk feed myself no, I am not planning my funeral yet but I am thinking of how finite I am. even though I originate from star dust from whence I must return I've been told they say the children being born today will live for 150 years or longer immortality is not the way to go, I believe I would like my subscription canceled long before that what would one do with an ocean of time and what a tax upon Mother Earth and Her resources It's true, I relish my share of cherry pink sunrises, finch purple sunsets azure blue skies and billowing cloud sculptures the splashing of rain on my naked face the randomness of a sudden gust of wind the soft reassuring cool caress of a zephyr on a summer's day the sweetness of robin songs and the green smell of a new spring the head butts and lick-laps of my aging Himalayan boy-cat and the raucous laughter and play of yip-dogs and children in the park oh and I love flea markets and odd strange people and poetry readings and people pouring their hearts out and inventive language and books and art and dance and music and movies and movies and movies and all of the flora and fauna and the way earth meets sky and I am mad for color...a whole rainbows of it and swimming like a mermaid because I can float and swim for almost a mile and not tire and not really stop and I love to dance and look into peoples eyes when they let me when I am not feeling shy as I've gotten older I have a particular penchant for a certain green-eyed person and well, also my cat too who has green eyes there is a long unending list of simple things that I shall miss when I am gone and I wonder too if I am one of those items that will go amiss and does the world become altered when we are suddenly zapped into the next world next body next soul minus the 21 grams we've left behind I wonder how many people will mind that I am gone what if everyone got to have a story written about them at the end of their life not just a blurb in the newspaper not just something morbid like an obit or an epitaph or a tear-filled eulogy I am thinking that I would like a Doctor Seuss type tale written about me and read aloud to a big crowd something like that would make me grin and I would be so proud that I had been here a one time ticket to this grand old world and don't people love it when they can laugh instead of cry yes I wouldlike to laugh more than cry the short while I am here. Copyright April 10th, 2015 All Rights Reserved By This Author I haven't written in a long while so its a relief to be here. Thank you for reading. This is kind of rant, not a poem. All poetry/prose, ideas/rants are the legal property of this writer. Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
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