by Glen Martin Fitch
I left my parents
chanting few complaints.
Too hard I stomped my footprints
amid the crowd.
I did a lot
in spite of most constraints
to help by lending hand,
of which I'm proud.
Though many sought
to bury me with shame,
I owned my own.
I fought for what was right.
Though some may roll their eyes,
few curse my name.
In peace I dream my dreams
and sleep the night.
Though time erode
my epitaph of facts,
I chiseled deep.
I hope my words will hold.
And though I second guess
a thousand acts
the love I lived was staunch
and kind and bold.
No "If I hadn't…
had."
No "If I could."
If I should die before I wake
...I'm good.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011