By Marcus King
There’s a lot I’d rather not get off my chest
And it’s hard not to be poetic about it.
I’ve had a lot of good times so I’ll take deep breaths
And try to tell myself, “No, don’t forget about it.”
I’ve had good days and bad days
And all in all I have no regrets about it.
I don’t think I’m going home
It’s on to the next one.
I’ve reached the intersection and left footprints, handprints and fingerprints
As evidence I was here.
I’ve picked up a lot of things, maybe not an accent
Yet I “canny” believe it’s been nearly a year
Since I left what I thought home was
What I understood family to be.
When I go will they bury the books with me?
Will I dissipate within the annals of history?
Will I be insignificant, just another letter
Another story unheard?
I want to pass on before I pass away
I want to inspire before I expire.
Yes, my life is a vapour
But I can be a breath of fresh air to someone
May my story be told for generations.
Two? Three? A thousand?
I don’t know, just more than one.
I don’t need to be a legend
And have statues built in my memory
For I have found a home and a life in eternity.
I have a book in which my name needs to be written above all else.
Yes, I know a book
A book which doesn’t fade
This is the book from which my story was made.
But I would love to be known in another generation
So let me impact this one.
And may my words ripple across nations.
Because my work was for God’s kingdom
And then let me go home
To the home I’ve longed for
To the Father I’ve stuck around for
To the life I’ve died for
And to the goal I’ve tried for.