I DO NOT WANT MY EPITAPH

I DO NOT WANT MY EPITAPH

I do not want my epitaph to be all the times I’ve failed.
All my misspent years on earth just chasing my own tail.

I want my epitaph to be smooth, upbeat and happy,
Though the world turns ‘round and throws me down.

I want to be known as brave and chipper
And a constellation in the sky bright as the Big Dipper.

I write too much of sorrow, gain solace out of pain,
But I do not want to be remembered as a man who loved the rain.

I want the church to overflow, with earnest ones who loved me so,
And I want them to remember my laughter and my smiles
More so than my tortured years, my long and lonely miles.

The path I followed to contentment and the man to whom I gave my heart.
The words and rhymes I left behind in my desperate pursuit of art.

These are what I want remembered, not sorrow nor depression,
Nor a sense of hopelessness to leave the wrong impression.

I do not want my epitaph to sadden or bring low,
The many friends I’ve counted on, the ones that I love so.

I want them to imagine me, dancing on the open sea,
Walking on the waters somewhere far beyond the moon.

I want them knowing I’m at peace, floating in that sky of blue.
I do not want my epitaph distorted, dashed, or misconstrued.

I want the world to finally know, when the time it comes for me to go,
That though I seemed a pessimist and often wrote of sorrow
That I loved life in my twisted way and believed in each tomorrow.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED