IN

IN MY DYING TIMES

Whispering words into the wind, there’s nobody listening,

Alone again finding a place where I might belong in time.

I am a spirit, I am this body and soul seeking my understanding,

Many times I have died but never enough to make it to the other side.

Lost emotionally, my heart taken away but never physically beaten,

Cried have I over the death of many things loved and now gone.

Die do we slowly in many different ways, do we have to cry,

In my dying times, I’ve risen up from the pain of rejection.

The feel of hurt to my flesh and bones is no sorrow for me,

My inner being can only withstand so much more agony.

My emotions written down, taken from within this shell,

This heart heals as I rid myself of these tears, dirty tears.

In my dying times remembered always in my mind,

Learn the secret of your own happiness, learn to live.

Like every season in which death is a constant reality,

All forms of life disappear, they vanish into another time.

In my dying times, I live on, in my dying times, I have grown.

Keith Garrett