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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1449352
If I outright describe the poem, it will be wasted.
My name is unforgiving,
my name is uncaring.
My face is unseeing,
my eyes do no sharing.

You see nothing,
and nothing sees you:
Watches you fade,
staring right through.

My hands are unfeeling,
my fingers don't bend.
My feet have no purpose,
and nothing to send.

My mind is not blank,
nor is it here.
It has gone away,
away from all fear.

My name is no more, 
in this has no sharing.
My face is without me,
to it I'm uncaring.

I see everything,
now I am through.
We all wait here,
looking at you.

My hands are so free,
joy my fingers send.
My feet might not be there,
I notice not as they bend.

My soul is renewed,
I'll never feel fear.
I've gone away,
away, now I'm Here.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1449352-The-Departure