Death

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Death

The lost of someone is obviously not easy

I can't seem to say things about the pain

It never comes around when life feels free

And the overwhelming tears you can't restrain

It happens so often that we become so immune

not knowing that today may be the last day

But somehow someway we run from the truth

And never say the things we wanted to say

I hope I don't see the passing of another person

But who am I kidding you will lose a friend

The unbelievable cry and yell of frustration

Who knows when times out and it is our end.

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If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

ptrbltbtch’s Poems (7)

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Death 0
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