Counting

 Counting down the days
 Until I’m gone,
 It could be short,
 But it won’t seem long.
 You see:
 I fear I won’t amount
 To much either way,
 I just hope my words
 Will live to see the day.
 When people remember,
 My preference, a child,
 That something I’ve written
 Made them feel wild;
 Fantasy enthused
 For at least a short while,
 I think that I’d like that;
 I think I would smile.
 So, I’ll strive to pour out
 The words that I hold
 And regardless of critics
 Always be bold,
 So when that clock strikes
 My final hurrah,
 Perhaps, someone will know
 My name in that hour.
 
 

63 thoughts on “Counting

  1. I do that I count days! I’ve always counted days! So many days till this time or that time. It’s amazing you think like this! I do know your words live on and they make a huge difference. Look at my Pa, his words till speak to me everyday. I do believe with everyone there is a wilderness time where we feel like this aimless! Not that you do but I feel that way sometimes! Thought provoking Richard! I like this!

    1. I feel like it all the time. And I’m a terrible counter. When I wake in the night I look to the clock and calculate every possible scenario in minutes. I used to anyway. Not quite as bad now as I don’t face it.

      1. Wow me too! I turn the clock around. I think if I go back to sleep I will have precisely this many minutes…I went to sleep at 1 am and woke up at 4 am. that’s three hours, then starts my conversation can I function on 3 hours. Yep I can and am today! That was last night!

      1. Well, I haven’t had crisps for awhile–switched to Cheetos. You’d get out alive alright, but you’d be dragging me–clinging to your ankles–as I begged, “Take me with you, Please!”

      2. Oh, I’m tough–and tough to get rid of. You might need to use one of those attack dog code words: “Release!” (or “Damn it, RELEASE!”)

  2. Very moving poem, Richard. A writer friend of mine once said that for us writers, the words we put to paper now will be our legacy. True indeed.

  3. The contemplation within this is so smooth, but gripping at the same time. This is a truly relatable worry. I always wonder if I’ll be gone before I amount to something. Through your magnificence, Richard, you will never be forgotten. But how about you stay around a while longer! ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. I do this. In many ways I think my time is almost over. I did what I was supposed to do and now I am just existing with no real purpose. I realize how terrible it sounds, but I think about it a lot. More and more these past few years. Morbid I know.

      1. yeh – my ex husband is one and so was Bill (bdays two days apart – talk about weird). i am not – an Aquarian – the head in the clouds artsy fartsy dreamer person – not certain where my morbidity comes from. i should be seeing possibilities not a finale. right?

      2. Hah hah. I have given you a poem idea. I would write it but it isn’t dismal enough. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I write dark dismal stuff. ๐Ÿ˜‰ this has an air of beauty and romance to it – not my forte. ๐Ÿ˜•

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