Poetry from Nicholas Gunter

Deathiversary

If not you, the bird. If not the bird, 

me.

But the bird has been dead for months now,

I made sure of that.

But you still rot away at my solace.

Did I do the right thing?

Should I have shot the bird?

Should I have buried you?

I remain unsure, even now

No good son should abandon his father.

Last I was here, over your grave

I told you a few things,

Maybe I shouldn’t have said them,

Ruining your funeral

I don’t know if I regret it.

I won’t forgive you

For taking my father from me

But it doesn’t matter

Because I’m not seeing him again

I’m not seeing you again

I told you I changed,

Not that you could hear

I told you I was tired of your shit, 

not that it matters anymore

But no matter what I think, I’m tired of these ghosts.

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