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You cant write a poem about death
January 21, 2014
It reeks
filling my nostrils with a foul rotten smell
It’s dark
with no escape and no second chances
It is a cloak
concealing all light and hope
Some people say death is hot and burning
but it is cold
It chills me to the bone
and sends shivers down my spine
The cold chases us
crackling under the heat that we are trying to escape with
Death is disastrous
consumes everything like a bomb
Death smiles and frowns
but shows no emotion
Death is always here
© Christine F., Luck, WI
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