Bonus Poem for Day 017 - 20150117
Can you tell if I’ve been here?
What proof remains of my existence?
Tell me please what I can do
to be here for you after I am through?
I dropped bread on the path,
traced chalk arrows on passage wall,
these mark the way I came before,
proof of a life’s fading footsteps in the hall.
Look to the crumbs I’ve left behind,
witness the mark on the rampart,
Bear witness to my passed life
where I walked this way before.
Follow the trail, cold as my grave,
leading to my remainders of yesterday.
Fading remnants of a life misspent,
rushed to find my peace without.
If I could stand before you,
an artist specter of ill repute,
I would say as a command,
serve your art and not the man.
© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.