Mailman

This poem relates to death and how people view it or should I say 'him'

He isnt dressed in blue or white, but when he 

lurks you'll notice the sight. His cloak is heavy

and so is his darkness. He isnt evil though,

so try to be fearless. He only takes and delivers

in between. He can either be seen as a close

friend, lover or even someone whom you've never

seen. I know one day I will be his next package,

and one day he'll approach me holding out his

bony hand. I'll say "Please mister.." I'll pause

with a tear. "I dont want to leave here.." He'll

nod feeling my grief and say "I give no commands." 

He will sigh and say "I'm just the mailman."