deepundergroundpoetry.com
Do I Die
All the writing is faded,
The name and the age,
All the flowers are dead,
It’s such an outrage,
The grass has grown longer,
The flowerpots cracked,
There are so many bodies,
The graveyard is packed,
I tidy the first,
And then the next one,
Mother and daughter,
And father and son,
Who were all these people?
Who I could not save?
Do I want to join them?
Do I want my own grave?
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I die; do I die; do I?
The name and the age,
All the flowers are dead,
It’s such an outrage,
The grass has grown longer,
The flowerpots cracked,
There are so many bodies,
The graveyard is packed,
I tidy the first,
And then the next one,
Mother and daughter,
And father and son,
Who were all these people?
Who I could not save?
Do I want to join them?
Do I want my own grave?
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I,
Do I die; do I die; do I?
Published 12th Feb 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 884
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
