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Epitaph
by Ken HarnischScour the graveyards now
For the words to fit your end
You will join the hallowed minions
Who lie there soon enough
Still with the time to contemplate
The sins you think are yours
And the ones you’re sure are not
I think, come that day,
When some imperial gatekeeper
Is tallying up your life
You may well find
That your felonies all paled
Beside your righteousness
And the latter was the crime
That a less than happy God
Will be holding to account.
It is not the sin, but the sinner
Whose creased pages in the ledger book
Will write your entrance to the clouds
Remember, we all fall down;
It is those who get up and try again
That usually win through past the angels.
Angels who care less for what you’ve done
And more for who you are.
12/31/2001 Author's Note: Contemplation after the funeral of someone I really didn't like that much
Posted on 10/22/2007
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 10/22/07 at 03:16 PM It's an interesting perspective offered here, Ken. I've been recently contemplating the thought that perhaps we are not our actions. And along that same line, what if we weren't even our personality? I haven't reached any conclusions yet - there is so much to be considered, especially in that last question. But even if both statements were true, there is no escaping taking responsibility for both actions and expressions. Very interesting feelings at a funeral, thanks for sharing them! |
| Posted by Kate Demeree on 12/06/09 at 07:30 PM Somehow I can hear you reading this and it brins tears to my eyes..... Well Done PoetMan |
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