Description
My living days are over
My living days are over; that’s it, nothing coming next
Which leaves me an unhappy bunny, and even more, a little vexed
Still, the reality is I am no longer with you and though I am now not capable of pain
I understand that you, my friends and family, will inevitably be suffering the same
That saddens me but alas, I am powerless to stem your grief and remorse
But please know that it is my truthful wish that you let my passing take its course
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Time will heal, we know it will, and to my dearest I must say a special goodbyeToday is our closure, time to ponder and think, to recall good memories and have a little cry
My thanks for your companionship, your friendship, partnership and more
Always there as my confident, a friendly and open door
My living days are over, my allotted time I’ve done.
Go forth with yours, be good, be kind, and have yourselves some fun.
About the Author
Keith Stokes-Smith was brought up in Solihull, moving to Worcestershire in 1997. Writing poems came easy to him in his twenties and early thirties.
In 2016, his mother passed away. Two weeks later, on a train journey to London, he belatedly wrote a bespoke poem for her funeral and wrote it as if she had composed it to be read out by her at her funeral; a strange concept you might think. From then on he found himself uncontrollably inspired to write more adopting words spoken by fictitious people of fictitious ages in fictitious circumstances. In essence, he has tried to be in the mind of the reader. His poems may be considered somewhat unique coupled very often with them having a sense of humour.
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