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Chip Bergeron

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by Chip Bergeron

Saturday, January 14, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Chip Bergeron
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           >> View all 112

A friend sent me a picture of an elderly lady asleep. This poem came to me.



At the end of a long life,

A hard, eventful life,

Fighting its demons to a standstill

Sometimes winning,

As often not;

Long, long, LONG

Unending, seemingly eternal,


Tired, exhausted, done in;

Oh so sore

Aching in a million places

From a million different aches

Nobody said that journey’s end

Would come to this

Not fading into the sunset

More like broken,

Broken on pain’s wheel.


For now slumber,

And for that time forget.

Forget the pain

Physical, psychic,

Maybe dream

Dream of a time

When life was a feast

Laid out before you,

And all you had to do

Was dig in.


But slumber is temporary.

You will awake

And feel again,

The screaming in your bones,

In your head,

Until that soon coming day

When this life ends.

You go to sleep

To wake up

In a better place.


-Chip Bergeron



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Reviewed by Linda Hill 1/18/2012
AMEN! One day we'll live in a place where there's no more pain or tears. Loved this write! I am tracking you~!

Many blessings,
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 1/17/2012
Sadly, the theme of your poem is universal and timeless in this world/life. I do like the way you end on a positive note, Chip. Thank you. Love and peace to you,

Reviewed by Tom Hyland 1/16/2012
CHIP ... Well Done, Lad!

"To Slumber ... Perchance to Dream ..."
Reviewed by D Johnson 1/16/2012
A clean and well written poem with much deeper implications...well done!

Reviewed by jude forese 1/15/2012
A slumber we awaken to will always keep us refreshed ... your poem has a poweful sense of renewal to it ...
Reviewed by RWE SAYS BYE 1/15/2012
A truly empathic poem. Sensitive rendition. Puts me to mind of the oft-heard line about life involving a journey much more than an end. If the goal is to read a better place, best bring 'better' along for the trip, throughout all the pain and sorrow, through good times and bad-as-they-get times, too. The only way to do that is to talk to the one who made you. Like it seems obvious the writer of this poem has done and continues to do. Am I right, Chip?
Reviewed by Patrick Granfors 1/15/2012
The medicine of the pen is working its magic. Might not seem like it. But it is. Your words have become more solid and though grief is evident so is hope. Hope goes a long way toward restoring a reasonable semblance of your new reality. Keep up the good fight Chip. Patrick
Reviewed by Richard King 1/15/2012
Chip, I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's tough! It stinks! You shouldn't have to go through it, but eventually, if you are ever lucky enough to know love, you have to go through it, unless you are lucky enough to be the first to go.

You are doing the right thing by continuing to write and continuing to share and I thank you for that. Dick
Reviewed by Christine Tsen 1/15/2012
Filled with despair, but so honestly and beautifully written ~

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