The Last Poem

To hear our very own heart
haunt the hall of echoes.

Those treacherous corridors,
pathways pacing back and forth

impatiently brushing against our vulnerability.
Treading on barefooted walkways,

triggering tears
transformed into lethal weapons

against all knowing Gods.
Hopeful sanity is sweetly lured

onto the long and winding road,
and Paul McCartney

sang “don’t leave me standing here,
lead me to your door.”

“Please hear our hearts
smile from the sorrow.”

It wasn’t your guiding hand
that lost its way.

Rather, our feeble fingers
dialing desperate moments

while you lay dying.
Dissipating into another beaten echo

enclosed in the last poem.


About echowood628

Let me start by saying I have been involved in creative endeavors my entire life. I began playing the piano at age two, composed my first song at age four, and ever since have spent almost every day spending hours allowing my fingers to dance across my keyboard. Composing music for the piano gave me a place to heal and find peace. An art major in college I focused on drawing and figure drawing and I also enjoy oil painting and watercolors. I have always enjoyed poetry and more recently started writing poems and enjoying the freedom and limitlessness of expressing my heart with paper and ink. I am divorced with two grown children. My daughter is a published author and my son is attending college majoring in zoology.
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