I am very happy to present to you a writer with something meaningful to say in poetic form.
Dying Sucks
By Bruce
H. Markuson
That day I dread, when
the doctor said, “There are tumors within”
What can I say, there's
no other way, how shall we begin
Slit my throat, peel
back my face, and rip out what you can
When you’re done, stitch
‘n’ lace and staple me up again
Change the pace, melt
plastic on my face, radiate me on the table
Thirty-three days and
sixty-six Grays (Gy's) I’ll survive if I'm able
I’ll be in a haze, when
I haven’t eaten in days, so I’ll starve a little while
But now and then, I’ll
wake again, and cough up something vile
Yet still It’s there, to
my surprise, I cannot pass the bucks
It was then, I realize,
that all of this dying sucks
Fairy Tales
By
They say that Hell is the
lack of all reason.
Logic
demands all things have their season
We struggle for life,
but often we fail
It’s
not always the ending to some fairy tales
Why tell these stories
that bluster and brag on.
Sometimes
the princess is ate by the dragon
When our battles are
lost, we fall to the ground
And
that’s when the cancer wins the last round
Hope
By Bruce
H. Markuson
Hope’s a word that’s
defined
A
feeling of expectation and desire.
Hope is cherished by
those of us
Who’s
faith will never tire.
But in all things, they
have their end,
That’s
something that I know
Though through the
years, I grew, I learned,
There
are times I must let go
Hope, I will not waste
on me.
Soon
I’ll be departed
Hope, I’ll save for my
young,
Whose
lives have only started
Bio:
Bruce Markuson lives
with his wife and two children in Milwaukee WI. He has a novel and over a
hundred short stories published. Bruce is also working on a number of series.
He enjoys writing and often finds himself with writer’s obsession. He says the
best way to write is to have an ending then write to that ending.
Check out his blog
at brucemarkuson.blogspot.com
