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Final Words

Writer's picture: Theresa BaxterTheresa Baxter

*Illustration reference:

Ancient Copper Dragon

by Vance Kovacs


What shall be written upon the stone

That marks where I now lie alone

Deep underground where darkness reigns

Across my chest my hands are lain

No more shall I have chance to make

Impression, nor a claim I’ll stake

Prone I’m now, no breath or pulse

Where slugs and beetles do converse

What final epitaph is chiseled

That’s burned by sun and soaked with drizzle

The finest rock stands test of time

Yet still meets share of muck and grime

And though my needs in life were met

I’m in a place they will forget

So should a stranger pass me by

I’d like to think I’ll catch their eye

With clever passage, irreverent

To show that I had playful bent

What gift to give myself, with glee

That echoes through eternity

It must be short, but plenty sweet

Revealing? Yes, but still discreet

How would I like to be recalled?

I hope my last words do enthrall …

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