Last Man Standing

My eldest is in China
On the way to the Li Jiang
She’s seen the Terracotta Warriors
In a place that called Xian.

My youngest, she’s in Sydney town
Her love in life is reading books
She has a sense of fantasy
And red curled Irish looks.

Me? I am in Pearl Beach
For others paradise
But I am on my own up here
And lead a damaged life.

I suffer from depression
And that’s very clear to see
For though the sun is shining high
It looks so dark to me.

I have many close that hold me
I am lucky in that way
They love me just for me being me
And don’t seem go away.

But the track of time’s unwinding
Each year, past friends are lost
Sometimes illness, now a suicide
And ‘gainst their names I put a cross.

For I am the last man standing
I’m like those soldiers made of clay
I am the last man standing
I am not going to go away.

I am the last man standing
For I have a hand of cards
That others wish that they did have
But being the last’s becoming hard.

For my eldest is in China
My youngest still in Sydney town
Although they are away from me
My heart is with them now.

Look! My greyness, it is passing
Now I can see the sun!
I know they love me for being me
Not for what I have not done.

For this thing called life is fragile
But it has a strength within
Not brittle like those warriors
But as fine as porcelain.

by David Keig

Comments (1)

brilliant poem david! i feel so lucky to be your friend!