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A Taste of Nightshade

by Christopher Shin

No taste or smell lingers in
the long winter wind.
Yet in this vial holds
the mysteries of life and
death.

As I stare in concentration
or maybe it is more of awe,
I begin to question the
meaning of it all.

You ask yourself what do I mean by "it all"?
Merely a question of my
own worth in this world.
I dare not say it is worth
more then a gold coin
or the highest bid on
an auction block.

Merely the worth of a memory.
A simple thought really.
No more or less then what
you would pay for a sneeze
or a cough.

Easily ignored by all,
and forgotten in the great
rivers of human history.
Maybe my existance is similiar
to the wolf or the field mouse.


Nobody really cares if they die,
becaues there are of no importance.
As am I of no importance to you.
So I stare at the bottle for a moment
then I decided to drink it down.

The coldness surges inside my stomach
and maybe the world will at least
remember me for a mere second.

11/24/2003

Posted on 11/24/2003
Copyright © 2022 Christopher Shin

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Max Bouillet on 11/25/03 at 05:03 PM

No one remembers the match after it has been extinguished. They only remember it while it is burning. Sad read that leaves the reader feeling very insignificant. Great use of words to evoke such a strong emotion.

Posted by Quinlan L Gibson on 11/25/03 at 09:12 PM

deadly nightshade...

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