If you should vanish on this day
What would all your follows say?
About your words on pixeled pages
Of love and loss and fits of rages

Would your life be so well defined
By fractured verse or scribbled lines?
The words you cleaved to with your pain?
The ink wells filled with your disdain?

Your pockets stained from leaking pens
And rhapsodies of now and thens
Playing for your friends to read
In paragraphs of wants and needs

These puzzled lines we put in place
From broken hearts or saving grace
The missing elements you hide
As question marks create divide

Are all your stories in reverse
As sacred blessings or a curse
Or increments of blind degrees
Describing lovers as disease

Will you be viewed and so defined
As well-adjusted or self-maligned?
And what will prove your epitaph?
A fast forgotten autograph?

Some testaments to show us all
The man we knew behind the wall
A final curtain call so lame
In an effort to procure a name

So how will we remember you
If what you wrote was really true
If what you said was in your head
Or just illusions you were fed

For truth be told our actions speak
And words are weapons for the weak
Who can’t get out of their own way
Surrounded by the things they say

As images to blind the eyes
And verbal masks to so disguise
So people never see the fact
That what you did was all an act

If you depart into the light
Will you be more than what you write
A messenger of foolish lines
Who wasted all his precious time?

Will all your thoughts fade into black
A life made up of all you lack
Would you be more than what we’ve heard?
A life made up of more than words

TM DiSarro

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