Going Home At The Stroke Of XII
By: Jason Morton
A hug that has long since gone,
since the day of your last breath.
A time well remembered
before you went onto your final rest.
At times of sadness,
my eyes hysterically cried.
Not grasping the world's message,
not even when you died.
My fists to the heavens,
consumed by anger-filled rage.
Life's unfortunate circumstances made me
feel like an animal in a cage.
Too young to know what to do,
needing your ear.
Saying I could handle it all,
I was tested that year.
Taking from your ideals you taught me over time
we brought it all together, through thick and through thin.
No ears to bend, no worldly advice to receive,
keeping it all together, filled with a pain lying within.
In time the pain diminished
and life did come around.
I often wonder how I'm doing,
and if you'd be happy for the life that I found.
Someday I do hope,
that I can share all that I've known.
Life is like a clock, ending the day at the stroke of 12
and when it's done we all go home.
Home is where the heart is, wherever there are those that you love.
Maybe someday I'll find my way home if I am so lucky.
Until then I've found a home with others I love,
while those that I miss are looking down from above.
May we all find home again...
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
I have always enjoyed writing and exploring new ideas, new beliefs, and the dreams that rattle around inside my head. I have enjoyed the current state of science, human progress, fantasy and existence and write about them when I can.
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Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storma day ago in Fiction
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