The Last Song

lately my writing has become

like my lovemaking,

the desire is still there,

but the potency has long

since gone,

I suppose the two go

hand-in-hand,

there were many times when

words were just an extension

of certain body parts,

so perhaps there is some validity

to this observation,

now the question is;

can it be more?

and for this

I have no answer;

the fire is going out,

many areas of my life are dying,

some days I cannot even

remember the point,

and that is a very dangerous

place to be,

I am slowly being reduced

to one side of the fence

or the other,

no more in-between,

no more middle-of-the-road,

no more shades of gray,

no more lukewarm;

hot or cold,

black or white,

life or death;

life changing decisions

require life changing choices;

there is much I could say to you,

but nothing can undo the hurt

I caused you,

nothing can bring back the life

I stole from you,

nothing can make right

the wrong I did to you,

everything has come down

to this moment;

the last poem,

the last word,

the last song.

.

.