Dear Mister Dylan Thomas

Dear Mister Dylan Thomas

Draft_1

By: Chase L. Currie

I go gentle into that good night,

But I didn't know where it would take me,

I did not, did not, fight against the dying of the light.

The wise men lied, leading me down that path,

There I sat crying for you to come back,

I go gentle into that good night.

Good men, die at my side, crying at my tears,

Their frail deeds lay on my shoulder with the weight of Atlas,

I did not, did not, fight against the dying of the light.

Wild men, caught and sang as the light burnt me alive,

And I learn, too late, the wild side of those demons,

I go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near Death, could not see how my eyes fill with joy,

Blinded by the blaze of a numbing flame, I knew soon it would end, but,

I did not, did not, fight against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there you sits,

Your arms open, for me, to come home, but I,

I go gentle into that good night,

I did not, did not, fight against the dying of the light.

(http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15377)

Poem 2

We were never young

Draft_1

By: Chase L. Currie

We were never young,

That was a lie,

They told us to make us feel better---

---But I knew better---

I knew you were an old soul,

Just-Like-Me,

With my pipe and pocket watch,

I tell you the moment I grew up,

The moment Death reached out for me,

His hands so, so, cold,

His eyes a very, very, pale blue,

His lips smiling, loving and most of all caring, so caring,

He came to take all my pain away,

That's when I lost my childhood,

That's when my soul grew old,

The moment I meet death,

When did you meet him?

In his loving embrace?

When did he come to you?

We were never young,

That is a lie,

I told myself,

To hide from the world.

We were never young...

(I once hear a child is no longer a child when they understand what Death is, or I just made that up.)