Poem for My Gravestone

Empathy must be earned not learned

That is the beauty of the conscious mind.

The rest is just wading thru shit…

But when crawling thru the plumbing,

Find poetry in the stains,

And when you recite it, make it pretty.

Or fuck it, just shout:

“I must get thru this.”

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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2 Responses to Poem for My Gravestone

  1. I love this poem. This is art. You offer yet more proof that my artist friend was mistaken when she said, “Oh, come on Jane, writing is so much easier than painting, and you can’t call it art. You have the words – all you have to do is arrange them. Painting requires more skill.”
    I resisted the temptation to say “Fortunately for you – unlike writing – art doesn’t require intelligence.”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for the kind words!

    Liked by 1 person

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