Displacement
There are those whose leaving
is the cause of grieving.
Some whose departure
brings relief and laughter.
I have always dreamed
that my own demise
could be in quiet steps
to retrieve my prize,
not with melting wings
as the sun grows hotter.
Let me leave this world
like a hand from water.
5/9/26
-
Author:
FrasMac (
Online) - Published: September 12th, 2026 07:45
- Comment from author about the poem: Retirement looms in the next year. I don't want any fuss as I leave the rat race, hopefully to enjoy some years of being useful in other, perhaps more benevolent, pursuits. Kind of like how I see life itself. Hopefully I'll go quietly when the time comes.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1

Online)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.