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That’s What They At The Asylum Now Say

I have walked in wait of my own death
I have swam and drowned in my own life
I have climbed only to sink beneath the sky
I have crawled belly-down and stood on-high
I have wrestled with hatred only to find love
I have been the bully who first needed a shove
I have been quick-tempered deep into manhood
But old age mellows that adolescent boyhood:
At least that’s what they at the asylum now say
Little does this white walled demigod know?
He too is buried under the walls of Pompeii...
His life to a moulding of death anther Stucco...

poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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