I have fear unbecoming a creature of God
That I still may have many years left to endure
Bloody hell on this wretched earth. My humanness
Is a curse – not a blessing. I know not success
To be worth my pursuing it. Quite insecure
Is the thin thread I dangle from. This life is flawed.
When I fear that my thinking will go on this way
To the point of considering ways to check out…
And when some reassurance that I here belong
Having made life a failure by being so wrong
In relating to rightness does not come about
It’s doubtful I’ll be here by the end of the day.
When my guts choke what feeds them perpetually
And their out of phase rhythm defies natures role…
When complaining to doctors leads to the dead end –
Absolute like a brick wall, deeper I descend
To that dark, choking space. I’m not one to console.
If God would deem it worthy, I would cease to be.
Thought becomes intervention. The things that I’ve tried
And failed at most horrendously are stepping stones.
“You just need to hang in there…” That’s so God Damned trite,
But this prison has strange rules that I cannot fight.
These insults are acceptable to my weak bones.
With my life’s final chapter I am satisfied.