Hes laying on his death bed What a sight! The deteriorated version Of the gangster, Uncle Mike The stories of his life and ways Instilled great fear In my younger days His reputation preceded The unsobered look in his gaze When his name was mentioned Youd be correct To anticipate accolades Of forced respect Now laying bedridden Breathing through his neck I wonder, with eyes closed, If hes taking time to reflect Stubborn even within arms length Of his demise His legend will live on Even when his body dies I wonder what hes thinking I wonder what hes feeling I wonder if hes dreaming I wonder whats he seeing Is there a white light Or is there darkness? The fight to live or letting go I wonder which one is the hardest Can he feel his souls restlessness To leave its worldly cell? His tongue is swollen now So if I asked he couldnt tell As he looks up A smile cracks from one side Of his dried lips Theres a pain as he shifts Eternal wisdom trapped in his eyes What an eerie glimpse! He reaches up, But falls just short of my finger tips I extend my hand And catch his grip His eyes wanted me to know, Through his souls windows He chose to show That if this was The last time I saw him That he was Prepped and ready to go.
Posted on: Wed, 08 Oct 2014 02:32:16 +0000
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