The Silence Poem by David McLansky

Perhaps they shall love me better after Death
When this writhing Spirit shall finally lay stlll;
When my exhaled thoughts exiled in sighing breaths,
My latest cast rough hewn beyond my will;
No longer will my talent evoke surprise;
My casket a pine bookcase that I had used
To stack the living thoughts that I devised.
You’ll prop my molten corpse, my books unread;
Dull worms will feed on my living pages when I'm dead,
There will remain that silence when my soul has fled.
And maybe, slowly they will come around
And resurrect the life that they put down

I’ll be grateful not to have to explain, to apologize;
“To decay in silence with my mix of truth and lies.”