POETRY CORNER
Life On Death Row
And so it goes…
I’m here on Death Row,
Just goin’ with the flow;
I’m doing my time
till it’s my time to go.
If you look all around
at the people you know
you’ll soon realize
we are all on Death Row.
Like a poem by Poe
or a head full of blow,
the Styx is right there
at the tip of your toe.
How you face what you sow
after watching it grow
is your single life choice
at the edge down below.
I hear the adagio
with its mourn-tempo slow
it’s a heartbreaking theme
and it breaks my heart so.
As I turn from this woe
in my bright indigo
to the light I’ll ascend
to escape this shadow,
to face life anew
with this memory in tow —
it’s never far away
’cause I live on Death Row.
June 2020
The seed for this poem was a concept I’d heard many decades ago. We’re each familiar with the notion that you need a passport to travel in another country. Someone said that our body is our passport. That is, as long as we have a passports (our bodies) we can remain in this terrestrial realm. At some point in time, hopefully sooner than later, we realize the significance of this.
