As I depart your world I’ll leave you
With one last bit of advice:
When you decide to bury it,
Dear,
Be sure to place it well below
The surface.
After all…
I wouldn’t want you trip on the handle
As you are prone to do.
Giving cause to raise an alarm,
Like flags,
To mark the past
So carefully left to wave;
Like landmarks,
Nonchalantly
Beckoning the way.
Here! An injustice!
And here! A slight!
Some phantom malignancies,
A well placed eulogy to spite.
The ground is pregnant with lead,
A wooden cross for every wrong,
And above your hatchet field still hangs
My unheeded repentant song.
Ten more claws than ears, I’m afraid,
Yet I am not without the blame.
Too many times I lingered here, lost.
How easily the ground gives way.
Now in the distance, a bell tolls merrily
To mark my death
And your happiness…
All games are called to cease
Consider your lesson taught
I’ll circumvent your plot
And kindly I will tip my hat to you
For letting me pass through.
Released from loyalty
I transcend,
But not without my final plea:
Bury it deep this time,
Dear.
I’ll not stand in your way.
But if a change in the wind
Should fell you again,
You’ll not have me to blame.
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