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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Unlike some, to me death was a gift:
No longer to live pointlessly in pain.
Choosing death, I might have on my own
Let loose the darkness gathered in my heart,
Except that luck has seen the matter through.
How simple, then, to let one's fortunes drift
Away from one, nor care for loss or gain.
Remember me as one who, not alone,
Relinquished well my moorings, to depart
Yet not without a backward glance towards you. |
