A Man on His Deathbed Gazing At His Wife
I can’t remember when
I felt anything for myself
Except for revulsion and contempt;
I haven’t been worried for years
And anxious for months
On my own account,
The sum of my existence
Is a small amount.
When the balance is due,
When everything is settled
And every vital decision decided,
I need to know
That you made it through this world
With your soul and psyche whole,
That you found the happiness
I was unable to give you.
poem by Uriah Hamilton

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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