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life is killing me
by Charlie Morganif i was on mama's knee and knew
what i know now; i'd slip off.
swipe one of her Lucky Strikes.
snatch a match from the kitchen
and borrow shade in the spongy
leaves of the china berry tree.
and smoke myself to dizzyness,
leap, not fall, to the ground.
die. have good, mournful words
talked with tears over me, me!
then i'd not had the heartache
of living a life, a life of lack.
sparse with the good, abundant bad.
no broken heart at sixteen,
no shattered ego by coaches,
no draft number of fifty-four.
instead, give me
a land with miles of smiles
where a dagger is never drawn.
and the pulse of life, lub-dubs away.
05/31/2008 Posted on 05/31/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 05/31/08 at 06:53 PM Ah Charlie, life is what it is. Yes, at times I've wished for the end and now it will come soon enough. Some of us must pay for the original sin. Nice write sir. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/01/08 at 04:20 PM Maybe there's another chance around some up-and-coming corner, and soon you will turn it, and smile. |
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