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What Am I



Why, why was I ever born
to live this life,
this life forlorn?

With all it's pages soiled and torn;
...what's that I hear,
Gabriel's horn?

Oh how I've failed most everyone
by what I have
and have not done.

Worst of all I've failed God's Son;
...therefore my ending
is now begun.

With pages of my Bible read,
wet with tears
as Judas had,

I put the gun
... against my head,
pulled the trigger, now_________________
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Submitted on September 26, 2015

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Russell Ritchey Claim this poet

The poetry I write, when I write, is an expression of who I am, my Christian beliefs, my dreams and my regrets, my joys and my sorrows...I have many base motives, I concede, but I continue to practice my rhythmic art in hopes that pure motives coexist, or will come along in time, and my skills will be up to the opportunity whenever, and if ever, it presents itself.In the meanwhile, my poetical expressions are like little emolcanic eruptions that provide periodic venting and release (and practice) which enables me to share my life's experience with not only the many others in my own human condition but myself as well, as I reflect back and peer forward and am able to see right here and now the base clay that I am, as it is forming, and the 'vessel of honorable use' I hope to have become wherever my story is told, if not in this world, then in the world that is awaiting beyond this great mundane. more…

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