And Barely Any Trace

This is it

The culmination

Of barely anything


The blackness is inevitable

So why not hurry the process

The skin is rotting already


And I still can’t stop biting

Living with guilt

For something I have yet to do


My right of passage:

Putting a pistol to my head

And pulling the trigger


So why don’t I feel

Anymore mature?

Rituals are meaningless

That much I am sure


So now it is time

To join Confucius

And become another name

Without a face

About Sean William Lynch
Sean Lynch is a writer and editor who lives in South Philly. Lynch's first book of poems, the city of your mind, was published in 2013 by Whirlwind Press. His second chapbook, Broad Street Line, focusing on politics and public transportation, was published by Moonstone Press in 2016. 100 Haiku is his latest release, also published by Moonstone Press in 2018. Lynch's writing has been featured in numerous publications online and in print, including (parenthetical), Poetry Quarterly, and Tincture Journal.

4 Responses to And Barely Any Trace

  1. Jeez, every verse was like an image in my head. Creepy, almost.

  2. neelkanth says:

    So lovely and appealing. I did relish the poem.

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