Poetry by Charles Joseph


When I’m old
And not yet withered.
In a cranked shelter, slightly bitter
My skin beginning to fold

My companions and house mates
Have disintegrated to immobile.
Memories on my wall…

When Always tics,
Sometimes tocs
And Often strikes!
I shall dive into a place down nostalgia.

Relive or revive memories,
Experiences and lives
I was convinced would never end;
I was convinced should never end

Beautiful faces that tell salient stories
That only memories could truly experience;
That only the present could whole-heartedly understand.

I’ll feel the glistening of the edges of my eyelids
And surface of my eyes.
I’ll know tears are begging to slide out
But, as my hands dole out my story
To offspring’s,
A smile, instead, will be victorious.

Past troubles won’t seem so troublesome,
But adventuresome.
I’ll know my time, my mark on Earth, won’t be gone.
And a purpose that always remained untold,
(No matter how much I was told, and told)
Would be deemed completed.


2 responses to “Completed”

  1. I love this one. It makes me think of a long conversation with my Dad that I had just today. He is 86 and has had an amazing life . Mostly he talks and I just listen. Dog under the table. Keep well.

    1. Wow this is so beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing this with me. This is the exact reason why I wrote this poem and the exact moment/sentiment that I meant to capture with it. This comment is a poet’s dream come true 🙂

      I’ve also made a video of me reciting that poem. It’s below. You’d love it. Maybe your dad would to. Much love.

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