The Last Song

lately my writing has become much 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.

.

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