Death

Thinking about every day getting closer to death, I wrote this.

 

The cemetery comforts me,

Thinking of where I want to be.

Looking at the stone I see,

I see a vision of me.

To die one day is evident,

No way to get out of it.

I see the place with cement,

With engraving on it.

Death comes a knocking,

While I am living.

Daily it is calling,

Everyday I am dying.

It will come to past,

Til one time at last.

I will be six feet under,

And all the people will here thunder.

Reviews

[funeralmoon]

i like this its really good its very sobering to think of death.. nice poem :)