The rags were weathered into a blanket quilt
Tattered torn remnant pieces sown in remembrance.
Mended patch words sewed into this lifetime quill,
When memories looks backwards upon resemblance.
A past being haunted with presence of graven words
That sees a future approaching with chilling conviction,
A fear sense of seer apprehension of being interred,
Without accomplishments in heartbeats final eviction.
Writers fear the banshee wail before the final page
Is written, those key stoked lines of intrepid trepidation
In fighting forces of construction destruction gauges
In friction of assertiveness and apprehension dictation.
A question mark must raise lives eternal self worth.
Or that grave-mark with a name, fades into non existence.
One covers a soul in a blanket quilt upon spirited earth
That live must seed blossoms in our remaining sentences.
A poet has this inner drive to flower,
Where they germinate seeds into others,
That in failure, strength can be achieved in characters
That will come together upon a successful blanket quilt.
Lord, this poet needs to finish his quilt,
Before the final curtain falls silent.
David Lester Young (Franklin Doppelganger) 10/05/12 ©