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At the Deathbed

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The artist’s life is short and sweet,
And as I lay dying, I wished to brush these,
Burdens off my chest, of secrets I’ve kept.
To brush them on you, who smiled as I slept.

And as death drew close, I drew you closer,
In hopes that I’d bethink your fugitive face,
And as I lay dying, I cried to tell you,
Of morning and noon, I loved the night too.

And as my bones rotted, the soul departed,
I passed into a world I’ll hardly remember,
And as I lay dying, in death, I knew,
When I’d wake among the world anew;

That you’d not be there anymore.



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live4words said...
Aug. 18, 2012 at 10:37 pm
WOW! This is an amazing poem! I can't think of anything that would make it any better so I guess I'll just say how much I love it! It's a beautiful poem, keep writing :)
 
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