If I should die
Think only this of me:
'Thank fuck he's dead. '
That should be the elegy.
Don't glorify the life I led.
Don't cry for undeserved hours
That, unlived, will never be;
The missing opportunity,
The cells of unborn memory.
I tried too hard to be someone
In doing so, I missed the vital point
False humility often took my fun
And put my silly ego out of joint.
Don't weep for my body
Broken by the laziness of flesh.
The bloom of youth was plucked.
So, fucked, you know skin-leather was not fresh;
The sun and gales had grizzled
What once was lean and veined and strong...
A chest that faces slept upon...
Limbs made taut when release comes on...
These by creak and ache were going wrong.
But none could love you like I did
Or father things like I have made
Life's song is over, decaying tune,
A half-remembered serenade.
If I should die
Think only this of me:
The shallow, ugly parts are gone
What remains is truly me:
The lives I touched. A soul that's free.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.