I walk the walk with death
Who sees me but not, me, him
Who counts my every breath
And bides my meted int'rim
.
I talk the talk with life
Who listens but argues back
And isn't as so forgiving
As death's amnesiac
.
I park my mark on history
Written in permanent ink
And those who follow the mystery
Will know the day I blinked
.
I died my death in an instant
And never saw it coming
And I moved the living, distant
Last breaths, thought I, outrunning
.
Life's a series of lessons
The last one is taught anginal
We learn them in progression
Till time to cram for finals
About the Creator
Gerard DiLeo
Retired, not tired. Hippocampus, behave!
Make me rich! https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/
My substrack at https://substack.com/@drdileo

Comments (7)
The feelings are crafted inside the mind. Well talented.
Oooo, this was so profound! Well done!
I feel breath of my ancestral tombs in between these lines so powerful.
Time to cram for finals is a great finishing touch! Procrastinate whenever possible! Loved the poem, Gerard!
Loved the perspective. Can easily identify.
I knew it was from that!! I’m with ya, stepping’.
Inspired by Rachel Deeming's "Life Takes a Sideswipe," at https://shopping-feedback.today/longevity/death-takes-a-sideswipe%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/a%3E.%3C/p%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3Cdiv class="css-w4qknv-Replies">