plagiarism

mindlessly humming,
i walk in the patches of sunlight
through the trees,
pretending that if the darkness
touches me, i'll die

it soon became quiet, as the birds
watched me reenact my death,
they call it 'morbid curiosity,'
phrases are often found with gossips,
ridiculous birds with their beautiful feathers
and pretty voices, never shut up, the things

death is a tricky creation, you can die
so many different ways

i am just afraid my precious jewels
will be stolen from my mind
by the vultures on the road,
when i'm hit by an oncoming car,
and the ambulance is just a bit too far

in my will
my poetry and art and photos and smiles
must be burnt by a fire
and the phoenix that rises from my ashes
must be shot