The One

A little poem I began writing last night and finished this morning.

It’s a little bleak but was inspired by one of Ilkley Literature Festival’s writing prompts, “Write A Poem About The Last Person On Earth”, and, with what we’re all currently experiencing, the poem came quite easy.

I pen these final lines

For who?

There’s only me, myself,

No you.

We were many, our

Numbers vast.

Now I’m alone, the one,

The last.

With coughs and sniffs the world

Got sick.

The end days came just too

Damn quick.

We kept apart while

Wearing masks

But even with these few

Simple tasks,

We failed to heed the

Medics call,

And so we fell, one

And all.

The page lies still with

Drying ink,

As I wipe a tear and pause

To think,

Who will read these

Final words?

When I’m on the ground, mere food

For birds.

Now there’s only me, myself,

No you,

As I pen these final lines

For who?

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