Your Poetry Dot Com - The Exit Door

Do you really know who you are, I mean truly KNOW?
Remembering the day of birth, the pain of first breath?
Even the first year of your life, the first word you said?
Do you remember anything, the pain of first breath?

What is your first memory of, mother, dad, a toy?
Only hearsay, that is what you have, maybe a picture.
Clothes or shoes, a small lock of hair, all attached to you,
By hearsay, nothing more than that, maybe a picture.

At some point in your life you started remembering things,
Perhaps a small snippet in time, pleasant or scary.
A new toy or maybe a friend, the lightning at night,
Memories left an impression, pleasant or scary.

You made it through life, some sorrow, some plight,
Doubt and fear, trouble seemed near, now they're history.
Emotional, this life is, yet you have chosen all of it,
All the bad times barely remembered, now they're history.

There were many happy times too, the surprise at school,
Your friends party, your first kiss, memories you'll not forget.
The smell of flowers, the joy of giving, playing in the sand,
A picnic, your first movie, the puppy, memories you'll not forget.

Closing fast the end is clear and you my friend feel it near,
But, how you exit, no one knows, except through hearsay.
You know you must, everyone does, you see others go,
What awaits, no one knows, that is, except through hearsay.

But troubled one, do not fear, the other side is crystal clear,
All those gone you knew before, they're waiting at the exit door,
You enter there and feel replete that mortal life is now complete
Your life is done, the job done well, they're waiting at the exit door.

This poem is Copyright © daprdan