Conscious Crest

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There once was a kind man  of wrinkles; plights and age  he above all else continued to rattle life's cage.  Again and again he bore his teeth in rage  fighting through the decay of his old self.   From the cracking of ...

There once was a kind man 

of wrinkles; plights and age 

he above all else continued to rattle life's cage. 

Again and again he bore his teeth in rage 

fighting through the decay of his old self.

 

From the cracking of blisters 

Oh woe to his skin 

To the popping of arthritic limbs.

Still in constant pain 

High pressure, low sugar, leukemia

And still he SMOKES 

what a habit in disdain. 

 

Nonetheless of years becomes he 

weary of his expiring transparency

continues to wake up at 0600 to take a walk 

Just to get moving on his childhood street block. 

 

All his friends were laid to rest 

now just a memory upon conscious crest 

and now in acceptance of what might trespass 

That he comes in the night to take him; Take him; take him...

 

He comes for us all when we all least expect 

but, hopefully we are prepared to produce last breathe. 

The old man was fast asleep 

Though in wake he lay 

his soul transcended his bodily decay; 

And finally he joined his friends 

upon conscious crest.

 

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